Raindrops on Roses
by KittyKate2356
Summary: a return to remember: Courtney Matthews returns from "the dead" to PC even more immersed in the Mafia than before she left. JOURNEY. AU. Full Summary Inside.
1. Prologue: As the Ashes Settle

**Title: Raindrops on Roses**

**Status: WIP**

**Category: Angst/Action/Romance**

**Rating: PG-NC-17**

**Pairings: Eventually, all will be set straight and the FabFour will be together and a family once again. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, but the plot. This is just for fun, so please don't sue! Thanks!**

**Summary: This is slightly AU. I'm going back in time during the time of the virus and both Courtney and the baby died during birth. Since then, everything is the same. Jax married Carly, Sonny is Sonny, Sam and Jason, and Elizabeth and Jason. Jason is Jake's father, but no one knows. Sam is conning Jason, but Jason has been placed behind bars for the murder of Lorenzo Alcazar. **

**What happens when Jason's dead ex-wife shows up in town, married to Brazillain Mob Boss Raul Romillia, and under the alias name of Brooke Romillia. She's neck deep involved in a life that she never wanted to live, and she finds herself in a dangerous situation as she works as a spy for her brother. Meanwhile, she has evidence that not only is Lorenzo alive, but he is working with Romillia to take down Sonny. As she tries to help Jason and Sonny, she is thrown more deeply into the life that she so desperately wanted out. But as she returns, will she find love again with the man that she thought she would spend the rest of her life and return the family that she has missed so sorely, or will she end up losing her life for the second time? **

**Read along as she starts an adventure that can lead her back to the love of her life and her family. **

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_A/N: So, I haven't written in awhile, but it doesn't mean that I don't love Journey any less. I have recently started watching GH again and can honestly say that i'm thrilled with the Sam story. She had it coming. This is what I would like to happen on the show, so please read and review, because i love you all so much and I miss my Journey! _

_Now, without further adeui. _

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**Prologue: As the Ashes Settle**

She sat at the beautiful table, a newspaper sprawled out in front of her, as she sipped on a tall mug of coffee—black. She had come to drink it like that; she never used to, but in the recent events that had happened in her life, she had come to like the bitter taste of the liquid as it slid down the back of her throat. It was a morning ritual. She would get up, read the newspaper (in search for anything that would connect her with the world she used to live in), and drink coffee made from the freshest Brazilian beans.

As she turned the black and white page, her hand with her coffee mug paused on its way to her mouth as she read the headline. Her heart nearly sank into her stomach, and she felt a sickly, nauseated feeling. She swallowed, reading it again—over and over again. It couldn't be. He couldn't be—

**The Ends Justify the Means: Morgan Arrested for Alcazar's Alleged Disappearance**

She looked up, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

"_You can't just bust into places and start beating people up! Especially when we don't have evidence! Jason, I am afraid for you!" She shouted, pausing a moment to look into his blue eyes. She shook her head, watching the bit of blood trickle down the side of his head. She stepped towards him, placing her fingers over the wound. "God, look at you, you're still hurt." _

_His hand founds hers and he covered it. He was shaking his head, but getting lost in that sapphire gaze—it was so intense and so true to what she was feeling. He could see it in her eyes—she was scared. "No, it's okay. I'm all right." _

_Her voice was thick with tears as she spoke to him. Maybe it was the rain and the heat of the argument, but her emotions came tumbling out of her before she could stop to process what she was saying. "I couldn't stand it if anything happened to you, and when I saw you laying on that floor, I thought…" _

_She trailed off, swallowing her tears. Instinctually, she pulled his face forward as her lips crashed into his in a passionate, desperate kiss. She sighed, moving closer. This was good—something that she had wanted to happen for a long time. She felt his hands cup her face, pulling her forward. Her head was clouded with so many thoughts and emotions: worry, anger, passion, desire. She wanted this man that she was kissing so deeply that it hurt her. _

_A.J., her husband… _

_She pulled away, backing up and looking horrified with her actions. He looked dumbfounded, like he didn't know what had happened. _

"_This—this is crazy… I love A.J.--," _

"_I know, it won't happen again." _

"_It's can't," she cried desperately. _

_He shook his head, his hands tumbling through his wet hair. He looked lost. "It won't!" _

The noise of a door opening brought her back from her reverie. Opening her eyes, she found her husband coming through the swinging door from the kitchen carrying a tray of fresh fruit and waffles. She forced a smile—one that if anyone really knew her would know that it was fake; it didn't reach her sapphire eyes.

"Darling, I brought you breakfast," he said, his brown eyes find hers as he sat the tray in front of her.

She quickly turned the page, and smiled at him, kissing his cheek. "Thank you, husband. You are too good to me."

She was lying through her teeth.

He smiled, maneuvering his way around the table and sitting across from her. He reached for a mug and poured coffee into it. He added a cube of sugar and a splash of cream, before sipping the hot liquid thoughtfully. He was watching her, and she was watching him back.

"I have news, my love," he said, placing his cup back down.

Her eyebrows rose slightly. "You do?"

"We will be taking a trip for awhile, perhaps a permanent move."

"To where?" she asked, a gnawing feeling in her stomach. She didn't have a good feeling about this. "I thought you liked being here in Brazil, around the family."

He nodded once. "Being around the family is comforting, but it is time to spread the territory into North America."

Her heart quickened. She practically could hear what he was thinking and she didn't know whether to be relieved or frightened. Had he found out who she was?

"Where are we going, sweetheart?" She questioned again, trying to appear nonchalant as she spooned some fruit onto her place.

He grinned. "A small port city in New York—Port Charles."

She blinked, her fear rising into her throat. "What brings us there, honey?"

"Sonny Corinthos."

She tried to appear blank at his name, but it was hard when she heard bells going off in her head. Her brother was in danger, and she would never forgive herself if she didn't warn him. She needed to find a way to alert him, but how? Everyone in Port Charles thought she was dead.

"Who is this Corinthos?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. Her hands were in her lap as she was afraid that he would see them shaking.

"He runs the docks and piers there. We are going to do a little business with him."

She didn't like how he said it; there was an underlying hint of malice in his voice. "Why New York? Why not Miami?"

His face grew suspicious. "Is there something wrong, darling? You have never questioned me before."

She swallowed, willing herself to stay calm. "It's just… I don't like cold weather."

Inwardly, she sighed. She couldn't believe how easily that lie had slid off her tongue. Then again, she had been doing so for a little over a year now.

He shook his head, smiling. "Don't worry. I will buy you an expensive, fur coat when we move, and you will stay warm enough." He rose from the table. "There is no need to pack, my love. I have everything ready there. We will be leaving at noon."

With a curt smile, he left the room.

Courtney Matthews sat there, feeling a mixture of fear and anxiety. She needed to tell Sonny the danger coming his way, and she needed to get Jason out of prison before her husband killed her family.

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**So... what do you think? Love it? Hate it? Tell me!**

**Kait**


	2. Chapter One: The Queen of Hearts

**Thank you **_**so**_** much to all who reviewed! This idea has been swimming in my head for quite some time here. I will be working in Jake's disappearance into this story, and how everything is connected. This is my first time writing anything along the lines of this, but I really, really wanted Courtney to come back a changed character, a little darker, a little more cynical, and a lot stronger. I always felt that the writers lost a lot of potential with Courtney. **

**Anyway, here's the next installment. Please read and review! Thanks so much!**

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**Chapter One: The Queen of Hearts**

They flew in to the same private airport that she had flown in with Sonny and Jason several times before. It was ironic how much she had tried to disentangle herself from them, and yet, here she was back from the dead and still involved in this life of crime.

_And here I am, trying to help Jason out of another mess. _She thought bitterly, sighing.

She couldn't say she was happy about being back in Port Charles, especially under the name Brooke Romillia, married to alleged crime boss Raul Romillia. All her hard work the past couple years had been put into hiding the part of herself that Raul did not know about—concealing the fact that she was really Courtney Matthews, Sonny Corinthos's dead sister. Now, she would have to be especially alert since she was back on her home turf, where anyone could recognize her in a split-second glance.

It was an identity that she had to keep undercover, because she knew if Raul found out that she was Sonny's sister, he would come after her family hard and lethally. She shut her eyes, pushing her fear away.

But there was something more to her. Not only was she Sonny's sister, but also she was Jason Morgan's ex-wife. Raul would publicly dispose of her, especially in the eyes of her brother and Jason. She couldn't let that happen, so until she decided to blow her cover herself, she would lie low and hide out from the people of Port Charles—her ex-neighbors.

She looked over at her husband, who was sitting beside her in the plane. He was surveying the water and the docks as they flew over them through the window. She could see his wheels turning in his head, and she knew he was counting which of those piers belong to Sonny.

It disgusted her to call Raul her husband, but it wasn't something that she could get out of so easily anymore. Her life had changed the minute she had woken up in a soft bed in a cottage somewhere on the outskirts of New Jersey to the face of Helena Cassidine. Of course, when she had woken up, she didn't remember anything about her past life, not even her name.

It wasn't until a couple months later that she would regain her memory, and when that happened, it was already too late. She had already married Raul. So, she had decided to bide her time until the precise moment when she knew that she would be able to return home to Port Charles.

The only problem was that now was not the time she wanted to reveal her true identity, and it was a dangerous risk to let her face be seen publicly.

The plane landed with few bumps on the stretch and as it halted to a stop, Raul turned his dark head towards her and smiled his silky smile.

"Welcome home, my love."

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek; she pushed the queasiness in her stomach away and bit her tongue as she smiled back at him. He stood up from his seat, and she followed his lead. It had been a five-hour flight from Brazil to New York and she was ready to call it a day.

As they stepped off the plane, Raul entangled his fingers in hers and pulled her around to face him. It really was too bad that she hated him; he was absolutely gorgeous with his dark hair that he swept to the side and his chocolate brown eyes were almond shaped. His skin was a rich brown with an olive undertone, and when he spoke, his voice was leaded with a heavy Brazilian accent. He was tall, standing at about six foot, and while he wasn't lanky, he wasn't stocky either.

"There is going to be some things we need to go over, my lovely wife," he told her, his gaze steadying on hers.

She looked up at him, tilting her head to the side. "What kind of things?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He took a deep breath, casting his head around, before looking back towards her. "This town is very dangerous. There are a lot of crime wars that go on in it, and Sonny Corinthos is a very dangerous man. I don't want you getting caught in a crossfire," he whispered softly.

Courtney felt sorry for him. Raul really did love Brooke with all his heart.

She nodded. "I understand."

"This is why you'll understand that I want you to lay low and not leave the house for awhile. I can't have Corinthos and his men coming for you, Brooke." His eyes pleaded with her that she would understand.

Her heart gave a giant leap. Somebody was looking out for her. She couldn't believe her luck.

However, she pretended to be upset. "Raul, darling, I'm sure I'll be fine--,"

He cut her off, his voice sounding desperate as he spoke. "It's going to get dangerous very, very soon. Corinthos does not play games."

_You aren't kidding._ Courtney commented to herself, inwardly smirking. _I think I know him a little better than you do._

She continued to push though, because that would be Brooke's first reaction. "Perhaps, I can only go out in the morning--,"

He stopped her again with a great shake of his head. "No. I will let you know when it is safe for you, but right now is not the time, Brooke."

Courtney swallowed, feigning a disappointed reaction. "Fine," she relented, sulking.

He brushed his fingers against her cheek. It took everything in her power to stop from cringing, and he pulled her into a fierce embrace. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered into her hair, "Thank you."

She nodded against his chest, and he pulled away. Holding her face in his hands, he looked her deeply in the eyes. "I want you to go home with Emilio. I have business to attend to."

Obediently, like a good mob-boss wife, she nodded. "Be careful," she whispered.

_I should be getting an Oscar nomination soon_.

He brought his lips to her forehead. "Always."

With that, he turned around and walked towards a separate black limo in the parking lot. She watched him go, sighing and feeling disgusted with herself. She felt Emilio tugging on her elbow, and she willingly followed him to the other black limo. She waited as her door was opened, whispered a "thank-you" and sank against the black leather seat. Emilio went to the front of the limo and joined the driver.

She looked around in the back of the limo, swallowing hard as her eyes filled with tears. She looked out of the window as the driver pulled them away. She wanted so desperately to get back to her normal life and she was _this_ close at doing so. Her heart ached desperately to run, find Sonny, tell him everything that had happened to her, have him "take care" of Raul, and be done with him forever. She was a slave to this marriage, a slave to "Brooke Romillia."

But she knew it was never that easy. She knew that even though she was back in Port Charles, it would still be a long return back home. Her thoughts drifted to Nicolas, her hands rubbing her stomach subconsciously. Her baby boy—the second baby that she had lost—was always hanging over her mind, as well as the baby girl that she had lost with Jason. She shut her eyes, willing the pain to go away, but it never really subsided. There were two holes in her hearts where the deaths of her children ate her alive. She wiped away the stray tears that had leaked out of her eyes with the palms of her hands, biting her lip to stop crying.

She had tried desperately to remain in touch with the lives in Port Charles that mattered to her; the only problem was that Nicolas rarely made the newspapers. Jason and Sam still weren't married—at least, the newspapers hadn't gotten a hold of it yet. Carly had married Jax—she still burned with anger at the thought of this. Carly was her _best friend_. How could she marry her ex-husband? Especially Jax, who Courtney had always thought that Carly couldn't stand? Sonny seemed to be lying low in the love department. She wondered briefly if he was still with Emily, but shook her head at the thought. She knew that Emily and Nicolas were star-crossed soul mates whom Courtney had thrown herself in the middle. She cursed herself mentally, berating herself for forcing her way in between the two of them. She should have never fallen in love with Nicolas; he was partly the reason she had gotten into this mess in the first place.

Courtney sighed, shaking her mind back into the present. When she was finally able to reveal her identity to everyone in Port Charles, she would first apologize to Emily, for letting lust be mistaken as love. Then, she would start her life anew. She wasn't really sure if her heart could take love anymore, and at the moment, she didn't want to think about it.

Sometimes she wished things were different. Sometimes she would catch her mind drifting back to the days when she would fall asleep wrapped safely in his strong arms; when he would look at her with those crystal blue eyes and tell her that she was his _whole life_. Sometimes she wished she could be whisked back in time, caught up in the moment with him and his love, but she knew that he had moved on. And she couldn't let herself fall for him again.

In fact, her feelings for Jason had some how went sour in the two years that she was playing Brooke. Perhaps it was because she thought that he would come for her, rescue her from this dark reality that she was in, ride in on his black motorcycle and sweep her off her feet. She thought that perhaps their connection went deeper; that he wouldn't accept that she was dead until he felt a piece of his soul die with her. She sighed, resigning to the fact that maybe she was just wishfully thinking, but she knew if the roles were switched, she wouldn't stop at the ends of the Earth if she even had an inkling of feeling that Jason was alive.

She shook her head again, feeling that awful bitterness eating her stomach. She needed to stop thinking about that and focus on the present. Her brother was in danger, and she needed to find a way to help him.

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**Tell me what you think! I appreciate all types of criticism as well! Thanks! **

**Kait**


	3. Chapter Two: FiftyTwo PickUp

**A/N – Helloooo all you readers! I am not sure if anyone will still follow this story, and I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in FOREVER on . I usually post this on the Journey-Online message board—one of the only ones that still does! Ha! Anyway, I have 21 chapters of this story written… so long story short, I'm putting them on here! Woooooo! :) Hope ya'll enjoy this new installment! **

**Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed. **

**Reviews are like sunshine on a rainy day! **

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**Chapter Two: Fifty-Two Pick Up**

**By: Kait**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. General Hospital owns the characters. I own the plot. Please don't sue. I'm only worth about a few pennies and some lint. :)**

It had only been a few days, and Courtney was already going stir crazy in the house. She had cleaned nearly everything twice—when nothing was dirty in the first place—and she swore that she'd caught up with every television show she had lost touch with in the states. She was especially thankful that while she was under house arrest, her husband had put in an exercise room, in which she spent at least two hours a day—sometimes more. The guards would go out on her command with whatever she told them to do, and usually it involved some type of meal that she wanted to cook. She had spent a lot of time watching Giada Di Laurentis on the Food Network and had prepared the guards dinner each night—sometimes Raul would join them, but most of the time he would come home too late at night to eat with them.

Courtney didn't mind, though; she didn't want to be around Raul any longer than she had to. Of course, Brooke minded, and she would pout when he would leave in the morning, but as soon as he was gone, Courtney would wipe her forehead with relief. He was gone, which gave her time to work behind the scenes on _her_ project.

The first twenty-four hours that Courtney had been in Port Charles, she had already contacted Sonny. It was a discrete way that she had done it; and she had made sure that she was untraceable—unidentifiable.

She had called him from a cell phone, blocking her number and disguising her voice with a computer.

_--Flashback--_

"_Corinthos." _

_She sucked in a deep breath, tears seeping into her sapphires as she heard the gruffness her brother's voice. Her heart clenched bitter-sweetly. God, she had missed that voice—the person behind that voice. _

"_Hello?" He repeated. _

"_Mr. Corinthos?" _

_She could hear the suspicion in his voice. "Who is this?" _

"_A friend. I can't reveal myself, because I must protect my identity, but I promise you… you have to trust me," she stated quietly, praying that he would listen to her. _

"_Is this some type of joke? I don't have time for this--," _

"_WAIT!" she commanded, her voice holding urgency. "Wait," she repeated again, this time more calmly. "This is important. It's about the safety of your family." _

"_Don't you dare threaten my family. I swear on my mother's grave that I will hunt you down if anything happens to them. And when I find you, I will kill you." _

_Courtney grinned despite herself. Sonny was always so protective. _

"_I promise you that I will not hurt your family," she told him, meaning it. She loved his family—she was his sister. _

"_How can I be so sure?" _

_She wanted to scream in frustration. She wanted to reach through the phone and wring his neck and yell at him: 'Because I'm your sister! I'm alive! And I'm risking my life to protect you!' but she couldn't, so instead, she took a deep steadying breath. _

"_Raul Romillia is in town planning to come after you and your family since Morgan has been taken into custody for Alcazar's disappearance. He's lying low, biding his time," she told him, praying that he would believe her. _

"_How do you know this? How do I know that you're not playing a game with me—setting me up?" Sonny questioned, but she could hear in his voice that he wanted to believe her. _

"_Because I would never hurt your family, Sonny," she told him truthfully. She would never hurt Sonny, Carly, or the boys. "I want to protect them." _

"_But how do I know?!" Sonny yelled, getting frustrated. _

"_There was a time when you would trust me with your life—with your boys' lives, Sonny," she stated, masking her words carefully. _

"_Who are you?" Sonny asked again. _

"_I told you: a friend. You're just going to have to trust me." _

_**Please trust me, Sonny.**_

_She heard him sigh on the other line; he was debating on trusting her. She closed her eyes, biting her lip to keep from blurting out that she was his sister back from the dead. _

"_All right," he said finally, quietly. _

_Courtney was astonished, and she opened her eyes in surprise. _

"_I will be in touch soon with more information. Until then, up security around Carly and the boys. Raul is lethal when he sees something that he wants." _

"_I'm trusting you," Sonny said. _

"_I know." _

_Then, the line went dead._

_--End Flashback--_

That had been two days ago, and she was keeping her ears open with any mention of business around the house between the guards. It was hard, however, when most of them spoke quickly—too quickly for her to understand—in Spanish. Being in Brazil for nearly two years, she was almost fluent in the language, but she still couldn't understand conversations at such a rapid pace. It was frustrating to say the very least.

Raul wasn't home long enough for her to eavesdrop though him, so she was coming up with dead ends all over the place.

So in those two days, she had been on the internet—googling the names of friends in Port Charles, trying to find out everything that had happened in the past two years.

She was surprised to hear about Laura Spencer—coming out of her catatonic state and back to her family with the miracle drug. Tears pulled at her eyes as she imagined Luke back with his Laura. She was devastated to hear that she had relapsed back into it. Her mind went to Nicolas; she wondered how he was affected. He had always talked so lovingly about his mother. Reading on, she was shocked to hear about the trial to prove that Nicolas wasn't fit to be Laura's caretaker, and she was frighteningly angry that Scotty Baldwin had been appointed by the court to replace him. Talk about being placed in the Devil's hands.

Sam had a new television show called 'Everyday Heroes.' Courtney rolled her eyes; she would be on television while Jason was in jail. Thank goodness that she hadn't stumbled across the new series while she was watching TV. She didn't know if she could watch that woman knowing that she had single-handedly destroyed her family. She couldn't say that she was surprised, though; Sam had always had this strangely selfish desire to be rich and famous. It seemed she was getting her wish.

There was a hostage situation at the MetroCourt, and Alan Quartermaine had passed away while suffering many heart attacks. Her heart ached when she heard this news; no matter how awful the Quartermaine family was, Alan was Jason's father, and he had always wanted the best for Jason. Yes, Alan could be awful—and he was when he thought Courtney had killed A.J., but she never wished death upon anyone—except perhaps Ric Lansing or Lorenzo Alcazar, who had caused too much drama with her family.

Lucky and Elizabeth had had a baby boy in April—Jacob Martin Spencer. Courtney smiled at this. She was truly happy for them, and she loved the named Jacob.

Now, Courtney was sitting with her feet up in the living room, watching the evening news, trying to keep up to date with the case against Jason, but before they said anything, breaking news interrupted.

"_We have breaking news here at Channel 6 Eyewitness news,"_ said the announcer in his monotonous voice. _"A baby boy has been reported missing. We'll go to Nancy with more on this story."_

"_Thank you, James,"_ said Nancy as the camera panned to her.

Courtney's eyes widened as she saw Nancy standing in the park beside Elizabeth Spencer, who looked frantic with worry. Her eyes were blood shot and her hair was a mess, and it looked like she was trying so desperately to pull it together.

"_Baby Jacob Martin Spencer was kidnapped this afternoon around four o'clock in the park,"_ she said. _"Mother Elizabeth Spencer is with us."_

Courtney watched with horror as Elizabeth spoke.

"_I turned around for one second to grab my other little boy, Cameron, and I turned back around and Jake was gone from his stroller--,"_ she broke off, her voice filling with tears, _"—I don't know… he's just a baby… two months old…"_

Nancy turned back to the camera, her eyes holding sadness. "Baby Jacob Martin Spencer is two months old--,"

A picture of Jacob flashed across the screen. The baby was beautiful; there was something about the blue-ness of his eyes that seemed so familiar.

"_If anyone has seen Jacob Spencer or knows anything about he disappearance, please contact the Port Charles Police Department, who has launched a full-blown investigation to find Jacob…"_

Courtney shut the television off, feeling horrified. That poor baby boy… she couldn't imagine what Elizabeth must be going through right now. She wondered briefly if her husband was behind the kidnapping, knowing that she wouldn't put it past him to do something as awful as this, but shook her head. Why would Raul want anything to do with Elizabeth Spencer's child? She closed her eyes, her heart going out to Elizabeth, praying that this child would be found alive. She would never wish on anyone the pain of losing a child.

_What sick person would kidnap an innocent baby?_ She thought, disgusted. _I hope whoever did pays for what they did._

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Sonny waited patiently for as the guard fetched Jason. He had kept quiet about the anonymous phone call for two days, not sure if he had trusted the voice. He had put Stan on the job, ordering him to find everything he could on Raul Romillia—especially his actions in the past few days. He was unnervingly unsurprised when Stan had come back with what had confirmed Sonny's fears.

Raul was indeed in Port Charles, and whoever was on the phone had been telling the truth. He had upped security on his boys, and had even gone over to Carly and Jax's cottage to ask if he could put station guards there. No matter what, Sonny still loved Carly and he wouldn't let anything happen to her.

Imagine his surprise when Carly was alone, telling him the Jax had gone off to find his brother Jerry like the noble man he was. Sonny had freaked and told Carly that she needed to come stay with him; business was getting bad. Carly had fought with him—of course—but in the end, she relented, and Sonny knew that it was only when she stopped fighting him that she was really scared. So Carly was staying in his house with him, in the guest room, and he found solace in this, because she knew that as long as she was there she was safe.

Jason came through the door at that time, wearing his prison blues. He nodded towards Sonny and the guard left them alone. He took a seat in front of his best friend, clasping his hands together, and leaning forward.

"What's up?" he asked, his voice hushed.

Sonny took a deep breath. "We've got trouble headed our way."

Jason cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?" he questioned urgently.

"Raul Romillia."

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**Let me know what you all think! Reviews are like sweet sugar cookies with a tall glass of milk! **


	4. Chapter Three: Secrets

**Thank you SO much to all of you who reviewed! It just warms my heart that there are still Journey lovers out there! **

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**Chapter Three: Do You Want to Know a Secret?**

Jason shook his head, his eyebrows knotting low over his eyes. "Raul Romillia?" he questioned, puzzled.

Sonny nodded, looking terribly serious. "Yes. He's one of the big Mob Lords in Brazil."

Like a light bulb had just gone off in his head, Jason nodded. "Okay, yeah. He's owns a lot of shipping docks down there, doesn't he?"

Sonny sighed, rubbing his eyes. He looked tired and worried. Jason knew that something was up. "Yes. And he's here."

"In Port Charles? How do you know?" Jason asked, looking alarmed.

Sonny looked uneasy, hesitating before he answered. "I got an anonymous phone call."

"What?! Sonny, you know that it was probably a trap," Jason said angrily, running his hands through his hair. "You know that whoever did that is probably working on Romillia's side. Get us all riled up; then strike from a different angle. You could just be playing into his hands!"

Sonny got up, frowning. Pacing, he began speaking. "I know this, Jason! Do you not think that I would check this out myself before I came to you?"

Jason was silent, but his blue eyes were like ice—angry.

Sonny sighed again, looking exasperated. This is how Sonny always got when trouble was coming into Port Charles—especially when he thought it was bad. "I had Stan check it out for me. He's bought a property right outside the city—far enough to be safe and close enough to cause trouble. He moved in a few days ago."

Jason rubbed his forehead, shaking his head. "Don't you think that he would have covered his tracks?"

Sonny shrugged, pushing the sports jacket back with his hands and resting them on his hips. "He thinks we don't know he's here. We still wouldn't if we wouldn't have gotten that phone call."

"Did you trace it?" Jason asked quickly.

Sonny shook his head. "Tried."

"Was it a girl? Guy? Did he or she sound legit?" Jason was peppering questions quickly off the tongue.

Sonny raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. I don't know. Whoever it was disguised their voice."

Jason stood up, hot with ire and biting his lip. "Sonny, are you thinking clearly? This is probably a set-up. Please tell me that you've thought of everything."

Sonny stared at Jason for a minute, gathering his patience from the tips of his toes. Licking his lips, he nodded, raising his eyebrows. "Jason, I can't shake the feeling that we know whoever it is working with us."

"Working with us? Sonny—"

"Listen!" Sonny yelled, holding up a hand. Jason fell silent, looking furious. "Whoever it was said something to me about Carly—to protect her. Why would any of Romillia's men care about Carly when I'm not married to her anymore."

"She's the mother of your children, Sonny."

"So what?" Sonny quipped. "When you divorced Courtney, how many people came after her?"

"She was your sister, Sonny. You can't bring Courtney into this. She was special," Jason answered, shaking his head.

Sonny sighed, knowing he was right. "That's not the point. The point is—Romillia only sees what is legal. If he sees that I'm not involved in anyway with Carly, then she's not going to used as a threat towards me. He doesn't know that I'm still in love with her—that's not written in legal documents, Jason. What he sees is that she is out of my life and married to Jax. So she would be no use to him."

Jason nodded. "So what are you saying?"

"Whoever was on the phone knows me personally. They said something about how I used to trust them with the boys—so I should trust who ever it is now."

"That's strange," Jason remarked, looking worried. "Do you think it could be Brenda?"

Sonny shrugged. "I thought about her so I had Stan track her down for me. She's in Paris, running a boutique."

"Did you talk to her?"

"Nah," Sonny told him, shaking his head. "That was proof enough it wasn't her."

"Then who could it be?"

"I thought about Emily, so I went to speak with her soon after I got the call. When I mentioned the name Romillia, she looked lost. And you know her, Jason. She can't lie to save her life," Sonny said, shrugging.

Jason nodded. Emily was still a sore subject between the two of them. "So, we're at a dead end?"

Sonny shook his head, looking just as confused as Jason felt. "Well the only other person I thought about was Courtney, and well—you know…" he trailed off, looking sullen.

The back of Jason's throat burned. Sometimes, he still couldn't believe that she was dead. "Yeah."

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Sonny's eyes returned to Jason's, and he nodded. "So it looks like we're all out of stops."

Jason swallowed. He searched Sonny's brown eyes, raising his eyebrows and shrugging. "So, you trust whoever this is?"

Sonny was quiet, not answering the question right away. Then, softly, he said, "I can't shake this feeling that whoever this is can help us—that we really can trust this person. I don't know, Jason. I just have this gut feeling."

Jason opened his mouth to respond, but the door burst open suddenly, startling the best friends and business partners. Elizabeth stood in the doorway looking frantic, her eyes were wide with tears and her cheeks were red. Jason felt worried at the sight of her and rushed towards her, not liking the bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Elizabeth?" Jason asked softly, his hands finding her shoulders.

She looked up into his eyes, blinking back tears. "Jake," she whispered, shaking her head.

Jason's breath caught, his throat constricting. Fear washed over his body, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand. His heart sunk into his stomach, and he shook his head. "What—what happened?"

"Gone," Elizabeth choked out, tears pouring down her face. "Our baby—gone." With those last words, she collapsed into Jason's arms.

Tears in his eyes and fear in his body, he looked over top Elizabeth's head. Sonny was gazing at the two of them in shock.

"Your baby?" he asked, his mouth dropping.

* * *

Courtney was at the edge of the stairs, her ears straining as she listened the conversation below. Her husband was on the phone with a guy from business, and he had shooed her upstairs, requesting that he needed his privacy. Like a good wife, Brooke obeyed—like Brooke always did—but inside, Courtney was screaming. She hated playing this obedient, little woman who cooked, cleaned, and took care of the house. She was tired to being married to this awful man, and she just wanted to return home so that she could start her life over—as a different person, a changed woman.

She wanted to see her father—gosh, she had missed Mike. And her nephews. She ached to see how big Morgan had gotten since she was gone; even Michael, who should be entering that awkward stage of adolescence. She missed Carly, no matter how angry she was that Carly married Jax—she just missed having her best friend. Hell, she even missed her older brother, the controlling jackass that he was. And, she missed her mom, no matter how awful she was.

And if she were completely honest with herself, she would admit (although quite grudgingly) that she missed him. The one who made her heart beat, the face that she saw before she "died." His blue eyes and his kind dimples. His spiky hair and his quick smile. She missed his voice, the softness in which he spoke to her, the gruffness when he was angry, the pain when he was upset. She missed with the very depths of her soul Jason Morgan—the love of her life.

But she must push that to the back of her mind. It was obvious that they were over; hell, he had said it before. They were over the night they began.

Tears burning the back of her eyes, Courtney continued listening, trying to pick up anything suspicious.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

"Eduardo!" Raul barked.

Courtney rolled her eyes; her husband could be way too demanding.

There was the sound of a door clicking, hushed voices speaking, and finally, the door being pushed open and heavy footsteps entering their home. Courtney gulped, waiting for the voices to start.

"Mr. Romillia," said the first voice. It was so achingly familiar that it chilled Courtney to the bone. Where had she heard it before? "So nice to finally meet you in person."

"Yes," came the voice of her husband. "I take it you have been busy?"

There was a sound of harsh laughter. Courtney strained her mind; she knew that laugh, that voice—the identity on the tip of her tongue. "It's not easy trying to frame a mobster and disappear without leaving a trace—especially when you don't plan on disappearing at all."

Courtney's interest piqued.

"I must commend your good work. You have done quite well," said Raul. "You are sure your wife and child do not know about you?"

"They think that I'm dead," the voice told him coldly. It was obvious that was a sore subject.

"No time to be snippy. They shall know the truth in due time," Raul bit back, using the same tone as the other man.

"We better get this on the roll or Morgan's lawyer will get him off with reasonable doubt."

Courtney's eyes widened. They were talking about Jason! She held her breath, trying to be as quiet as she could.

"Hopefully, if we stick to the plan, we will be able to take both Corinthos and Morgan down at the same time, without even lifting an illegal finger," said Raul.

Courtney felt sick. She couldn't let him hurt her family.

"I want to make sure that we have one thing clear, Mr. Romillia," came the first voice. "We do not touch Mrs. Jacks or the boys."

"You have a soft spot for the ex-wife, yes?" came the voice of her husband.

Courtney sucked in a sharp breath, the cold, frightening feeling of realization hitting her like a twenty-foot wave, rocking her soul. She shook her head, covering her mouth. No, it couldn't be. Please. It couldn't be.

_Please tell me it's not…_

"Carly and I have a past relationship, and I loved those boys like they were my own," he said.

Courtney's sapphires flooded with tears.

"We have a deal, Mr. Alcazar. Mrs. Jacks and the boys will be left untouched."

Courtney stopped listening after that moment, the ringing in her ears drowning out the sound of the two men's voices downstairs. She gulped, sinking against the wall. She felt dizzyingly sick, like she was going to pass out or vomit.

Lorenzo Alcazar was alive, and Jason was imprisoned for his death.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, Courtney knew what she would have to do. The only question was how?

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	5. Chapter Four: Time Ticks

**Chapter Four: Time Ticks**

It had been nearly a week since Courtney had found out that Alcazar was alive, and she was going crazy in her house. Fortunately for her, Raul had failed to mention his wife as of yet, and they had left all their wedding pictures in their old home in Brazil, which meant that she was safe from Alcazar recognizing her from a picture that he just happened to glance at during a meeting with Raul.

And if he did catch her… she would lie about everything—tell him that she didn't know Sonny or Jason or anything that he was accusing her. And she was mentally steeling herself for a mention of Jason's and her baby that she had miscarried during the time he kidnapped her. She wouldn't put it past him to be as ruthless and heartless to bring up her angel baby. She would have to harden her heart and her shell so that he couldn't see the vulnerability in her eyes if he found her and began to question her.

But if he did find her, she was sure he wouldn't believe her lies in the first place. He would probably just kill—impulsively, resolutely, quickly, silently. The thought made her heart race. What if she died? Everyone that she loved that thought she was dead in the first place wouldn't know. She would be killed alone.

Alcazar had been to the house twice after she had found out that he was really alive, and, before he had walked in, she had excused herself upstairs. Although it had been a rule with Sonny and Jason that the girls weren't aloud around when there was business talk, Raul didn't mind discussing business in front of her—especially because he spoke a different language fluently. But when he found out that she had been picking up a little Spanish here and there, he had begun to send her out of the room—but she had been the one that banished herself upstairs.

In the past week, Courtney had developed a plan and set it into motion. She couldn't risk trying to sneak out of the house without a disguise so distracting the guards long enough so that she could go to Sonny would be useless and dangerous on her part. Going the police station to meet with Jason was another big dead end. She had considered calling Sonny again, but the fact was that she had no hard evidence to prove that Alcazar was alive. In fact, it was her word—Sonny's dead sister, obviously mixed up in this mess—against Ric Lansing—Port Charles's District Attorney. It was undeniable whose word would stand up in court, so Courtney had to come up with a different plan.

Number one—she had the boys go out to the store for hair color. It had been painful saying good-bye to her blonde hair, and she had stood in front of the mirror for two hours trying to work up the nerve to go dark. She tried to reason with herself that her blonde hair could stay—a lot of women had blonde hair in that town. She even considered getting a hair cut, but that idea was quickly nixed. Hair color was easy to fix—growing hair on the other hand was a long, slow process that she didn't have patience for. So in the end, she had finally picked up the bottle, and the next time she had looked in the mirror, her hair had been a rich dark chocolate. For a second, she had barely recognized herself. It did her great pleasure, and modestly, she admitted that she looked rather seductive and gorgeous with this newer, darker shade of color. But she still missed her blonde locks.

Raul had been surprised, but in the end, he accepted. She really didn't mind that he had been a little dismayed (he had always liked her blonde hair.), but when she had lied through her teeth about being in a new country and wanting to change her look like they were starting anew, he had gobbled it up. Really, it surprised her how much of a sucker Raul was.

Next step in the plan was setting up hidden cameras that recorded everything that went on in the living room. This was the most dangerous part of her plan. If Raul found out—or any of his goons for that matter—she would be killed on the spot. She had taken time one afternoon, when the guards were on lunch break to stealthily set them up. She needed to get on camera that Alcazar was alive and free and speaking about setting up Jason with the police. She had hidden it in a plant in the corner of the room when no one normally looked, and at an angle that could catch nearly all of the room.

That had been four days ago, and she had been able to catch Alcazar on camera twice. Her plan was working a little too smoothly.

This is what scared her—everything was going too easily according to plan. Raul believed everything that came out of her mouth, and Alcazar had yet to find out that Raul even had a wide that looked remotely like Courtney Matthews. Sonny had trusted her over the phone, which made her think that he was getting bad again. Sonny rarely trusted his guards, let alone a stranger on the phone. It made her believe that Sonny thought things were getting bad, and who could blame him? The only person—besides Carly—that Sonny really trusted the imprisoned for a murder that he didn't commit, and a stranger was telling him that his family was in danger.

She sighed, feeling the on set of a headache coming on, and she rubbed her temples.

All this danger was taking a toll on her. She rarely slept anymore for fear that Raul would realize who she was and kill her in her sleep. She shared a bed with a stranger pretending that she was Brooke, his lovely trophy wife, and she was tired of coming up with excuses not to have sex with her husband, because she "had a headache" or "didn't feel well." Most of the time, she pretended to be asleep when he came home.

Sometimes, though, she knew that he had drugged her, especially when her head felt like it was swimming and her limbs felt heavy; and he would seduce her, and she would cry out in her mind as he raped her, over and over again. And when he would fall asleep next to her, she would quietly roll out bed and lock herself in the bathroom so that she could cry, silently and desperately. She was so tired of feeling dead inside, and the only hope that kept her going was seeing her family again—Carly, Sonny, the boys, her father…

Jason…

She shook her head, willing the pain in her to go away. She was tired of thinking about him, tired of reliving their relationship in her head over and over again, exhausted of wracking her brain for a choice that she could have made to make it turn out differently…

And each time, she came up with the same conclusion: Not telling Jason about their baby before she miscarried.

That had been the beginning of the end for them. She had drawn into herself because she had felt that she had failed him, and he couldn't understand her pain.

She sighed, pushing Jason into the back of her head. She shouldn't be thinking about that at this moment. She was now sitting in front of her computer; she had retrieved the disk out of camera and was watching the footage soundlessly. It was almost two o'clock in the morning and nearly everyone was asleep. She had crushed up a sleeping pill in Raul's wine that evening as they had dinner so that he wouldn't wake up. Sure enough, almost an hour later, he expressed how tired he was and had barely made it upstairs before he collapsed on the bed.

Now, she was sitting in their living room, a mug of hot tea beside her, and her laptop resting on her legs. She was clipping the footage, cutting out any parts that didn't involve Alcazar.

Suddenly, she heard a door open, and she held her breath, quickly minimizing the program and bringing up the Internet. She had anticipated someone walking in on her, as it was suspicious as to why she was on a computer in the middle of the night when she should be sleeping.

She looked up as she felt the presence of a guard standing next to her.

"Mrs. Romillia?"

She smiled silkily. "What can I do for you, Miguel?"

He gulped, and she inwardly smirked. He had always had a crush on her. "I was just wondering why you're up so late."

She picked up the hot mug of tea and sipped it before answering. "I couldn't sleep, so I came down here and made myself some chamomile tea—it's very soothing."

He regarded her carefully, before shaking his head. "What are you doing with the laptop?"

She raised her eyebrow. "I'm watching video clips of my favorite soaps." She feigned a guilty smile. "It's one of my secret pleasures."

He nodded. "Sorry to bother you, Mrs. Romillia. The boss just likes that we look after you."

_Because he thinks I'm a brain dead idiot._ She thought nastily, but grinned up at him.

"Thank you, Miguel. My husband chooses the most caring guards." She was getting too good at lying and manipulating.

With a smile, the guard nodded and disappeared back to his station.

When the door closed, she sat back into the couch, running her hands through her hair. Her eyes welled with tears, and she could feel her heart beating erratically behind her chest. That was too close; she was cutting too many corners. She was bound to get caught soon, which only meant that she had to work faster.

She maximized the video clips and opened her email. She had created a new account, an alias email address so that she could send these to Sonny without him tracing it back to her. Taking one more look at the clips, she attached the files to the email and re-read what she had wrote.

_Mr. Corinthos,_

_I'm sorry I haven't been in touch for a while, but I'm sure these will help you and Mr. Morgan. Again, trust me. I can only assure you that I'm on your side. Everything will become clear soon. _

She swallowed. Gosh she hated keeping her identity secret from her brother. She hated it with everything in her. All this lying was tearing her soul apart. She just wanted all of this to be over with.

She exhaled slowly, her finger hovering over the send button. Closing her eyes, she dropped her finger onto the key. She heard the click telling her that the email had been sent through without hitch. She opened her eyes, not an once of relief washing over her. Instead, her stomach was in anxious knots. And as she deleted any evidence that she was working against Raul, including the email and the footage, she knew that again this night would be a sleepless one. And as she lay her head on her pillow and stared at the dark ceiling, one thought occupied her mind and replayed over and over like a broken record in her head.

The true war was only beginning.

~*~*~*~

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	6. Chapter Five: Bits, Pieces, and Holes

**A/N – Sorry about the wait! School got reeeaaalllyyy crazy last week, and I just didn't have the time to upload this chapter! I am so excited about your responses! And I'm so thankful that you love reading this story just about as much as I love writing it! :) Thank you so much for the reviews. You guys are grrrreeeaaat! **

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_-&-_

**Chapter Five: Bits, Pieces, and Holes**

Sonny paced the length of his living room floor; it was nearly four o'clock in the morning and his eyelids were not in the least bit heavy. It had been five days since baby Jake had been kidnapped; Jason was out on bail, and every waking minute he had he spent (which seemed to be the last 120 hours) scrounging around dead ends, trying to find his missing son.

Sonny should have been surprised when he found out that Jake was Jason's son, but looking back now, it made sense. Jason had been hiding something for months, and it was obviously ripping him apart. Sonny had figured that it had something to do with his failing relationship with Sam so he hadn't questioned Jason further about it, and in the end, he was wrong.

Speaking of Sam, something definitely was off with the petite brunette. As of late, she could be found stumbling around town, barely holding her liquor or missing in action all together. While Sam most certainly was no Kate Howard, she definitely kept herself looking presentable. However, lately, there were bags underneath her eyes and her dark hair was always messy, thrown into a knotty bun that sat at the top of her head. Her clothes were always wrinkled, in need of a press, and the stench of alcohol permeated through her pores as she entered a room.

If Sonny had cared more, he probably would have been concerned.

But, as heartless as it felt admitting to it, he really couldn't dig up one ounce of sympathy.

Interestingly enough, Sonny had found out some intriguing information about Sam's past by an unsuspecting woman the day before. Around lunchtime the day previous, there had been a knock on Sonny's office door at the coffee shop. Though busy on the phone, searching and repeatedly hitting dead ends for baby Jake, he had decided to take the visitor.

Confusion had taken him by storm as the producer of Sam's show, Amelia Joffey, walked through the open door. Perhaps he felt a small surge of fear—maybe she had been delivering news of a dead Sam, lying in the morgue at the hospital, having poisoned herself with too much alcohol; however, when she introduced herself, he saw a vengeful expression in her piercing grey eyes. The precise moment his hand met hers in their very brief, very firm handshake, he felt her anger and bitterness reverberate through him. This woman standing in his office was out for blood.

She had slammed down a manila folder onto Sonny's desk, telling him to open it. He had done as he was told, and inside was a gold mine of information painting the not-quite-so-picturesque past of con artist Sam McCall. Sam had lied, cheated, and stolen her way into five men's hearts under different names, married them, and left after a few months, taking their bank account with her. All had worked except the last of the five, who had figured out what she was doing. When confronting her about it, Sam had pulled out a shotgun and killed him without even blinking an eye. Pleading self-defense, she had gotten off without even so much as community service.

That had been Amelia's father that Sam had killed.

Amelia had been setting Sam up for months.

Sonny had been confused as to why Amelia was presenting him with this information; then Amelia had dropped the bomb on Sonny's head.

Sam knew Jason was Jake's father, and didn't plan on telling Jason any time soon. And not only that, but when Jake was abducted, Sam wasn't at the studio, but had stopped in the park to get a smoothie—as she had told the police. Sonny thanked Amelia for the information and dismissed her, not exactly how sure he was about trusting her story.

When she was gone, he had sent for Spinelli, and when the nervous computer genius had entered the office with his "The Godfather summoned the Jackal's presence, Sir?" Sonny had assigned him with researching every bit of information that Amelia had given him, including the men that Sam had conned and her illegal names that she had used. And in the end, Amelia had been telling the truth.

Sonny had sent for Jason next, who grudgingly agreed to see him. When he had come hurriedly into the office, anxious to get this over with, Sonny had dumped the news onto him. And not only did Sam know that Jason was Jake's father, but she had lied to police about her whereabouts the time of the abduction. Spinelli had hacked into the smoothie shop's security cameras and had looked at the footage from the day of the kidnapping; Sam didn't so much as walk past the shop.

Jason had been reluctant to believe anything that Sonny was telling him, but in the end, it had pained him to tell one of the guards to tail Sam wherever she went. Perhaps the kidnapper was underneath their nose—and in Jason's case, in his house—all along.

Jason had taken his bike out after that, needing to clear his head; Spinelli had bowed out of the office when Lulu had called with an emergency on her hands; so Sonny had been left alone in the office where he began to dig up dirt on Raul Romillia.

The man was awful secretive for being in the business for years. It seemed to be the family business, as his father and his grandfather before him had run the illegal operations. His first wife had died when one of his many enemies had surrounded his house and opened fire into his home. His late wife had died instantly, killed by a bullet to the head.

Sonny stopped as he read over this information, closing his eyes painfully. Across his mind flashed the image of Carly, sweaty and exhausted having just given birth to Morgan, slumped over in that chair, his bullet piercing her temple as she lay unconscious. He quickly shook the memory away, returning his eyes to the information in front of him.

Raul's late wife's death was five years prior. Her alleged murderer and fellow enemy of Romillia's had shown up dead within the next month—clearly an act of retaliation on Romillia's part. And though the police had held him in custody, the law could never prove with hard evidence that he was involved with the murder, so he was found not guilty due to reasonable doubt.

Nothing else really stood out to Sonny—there was the usual police interrogations and arrests, nothing out of the ordinary… until Sonny ran across a tad of information that made his eyebrows shoot upward. Romillia had gotten married two years ago to a woman named Brooke Darrialo, but when Sonny had researched that name, neither a picture nor an article had been retrieved. It seemed that Brooke, who ever she was, had led a very secret life—even more so than her current husband—and what really struck a cord with Sonny was that this Brooke Darrialo held no legal birth certificate.

From the information presented in front of him, Sonny deduced that Romillia's wife had just appeared out of nowhere two years ago. His forehead wrinkled with a sort of pensiveness that purged his soul at the moment—a long, lingering feeling of suspicion crept from his toes into his stomach.

There was more to Brooke Darrialo Romillia than let on, and he was determined to get to the bottom of it.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, Sonny quickly turned, ripped from his thoughts. Marco opened the door and in walked Spinelli, looking tired, but nonetheless toting his faithful laptop. Sonny nodded and Marco left them alone.

"The Godfather called for the ever ready, but sleepy Jackal, sir?" Spinelli asked, his voice clouded with sleep.

Sonny walked to the wet bar, poured Spinelli a cup of coffee, and returned, handing him the dark liquid.

"You might want to drink that; we have work to do." His statement was brief, but nevertheless commanding.

Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Spinelli raised an eyebrow and took the cup out of Sonny's hand. "Is this more on Fair Samantha, sir? Because I really don't think that she could have anything to do with--,"

Sonny held up a hand, cutting him off. "This isn't about Sam. And keep your voice down. Carly and the boys are sleeping."

"Well, the boys are, at least."

Sonny and Spinelli turned and saw Carly, her blonde hair mussed with sleep, gliding down the stairs in a silky, baby blue robe. Sonny grinned and Spinelli gulped.

"So deeply sorrowful the Jackal is to have woken you, beautiful Valcary. The sincerest of my apologies," stated Spinelli, his brown eyes glassing over slightly.

Sonny raised an eyebrow towards Spinelli, shook his head, and rubbed his forehead. He felt a headache coming to him. Turning his chocolate eyes to the blonde bombshell, he said, "You shouldn't be up, Carly."

She shrugged, folded her arms across her chest, dropped onto the couch, and looking up at the two. A defiant gleam fell across her shadowed face, as it was dark in the living room, and she shook her head. "Couldn't sleep." Her answer was simple—_too simple_.

"Carly."

It seemed the battle of wits was on between the ex-lovers.

She cocked her head, mocking him. "Sonny."

Sonny rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead tiredly. "Please, Carly. Go back upstairs. There's no need for you to be down here, and Spinelli and I are working on important business."

Carly was silent for a moment, searching Sonny's chocolate eyes. "This is about why you have me and the boys staying here, isn't it?" She paused for a minute and was met with silence. "I don't like this, Sonny. I have a bad feeling about this, like something is going to happen and our lives are going to change drastically."

"Carly, when don't you feel like that?" Sonny asked, shaking his head and trying to hide the irritation in his voice.

Her mouth dropped. "Excuse me? You're the one freaking out about the boys and I being alone! You're the one that brought us back into your home for our protection! I deserve some type of explanation!"

Spinelli suddenly felt very uncomfortable watching the interaction between the two of them.

"I told you, Carly! The business is bad right now! And since Candy Boy—_your husband_—is God knows where chasing after his terrorist brother who doesn't deserve to live, I'm left having to worry about you!" Sonny told her angrily.

Carly stood up, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Pointing a finger at her ex-husband, she said, "You leave Jax out of this!"

Sonny rolled his eyes. "Carly, will you please leave us alone?"

"Fine," Carly huffed, sneering towards her former lover. "Fine."

With an angry swear, she turned on her heel and marched back up the stairs. Sonny didn't speak until he heard her pounding footsteps stop where they were supposed to stop—in the guest bedroom. He closed his eyes when he heard the door slam shut and shook his head. Taking a moment to compose his anger, he turned towards Spinelli, resting his hands lazily on his hips.

"Sorry about that. Carly gets a little frustrated when she doesn't know what is going on," Sonny told him, trying half-heartedly to explain.

Spinelli waved his hand, shaking his head. "The Valcary is allowed to feel such as she is being held prisoner is someone else's home." Sonny's head snapped up, and Spinelli's eyes widened at his slip. He grinned nervously. "Sorry, sir, with all due respect…"

"Don't worry about it," Sonny said, not feeling particularly keen on hearing the nerdy kid sputter out an excuse.

Spinelli nodded silently, his big brown eyes oozing fear.

"Have a seat," Sonny told him, pointing to one of the armchairs. "We have a lot of work to do."

Spinelli obeyed.

Sonny turned to him, tossing him the file that he had pulled on Raul Romillia. "Read through this. Tell me what you find suspicious."

There were a few minutes of silence as Spinelli read through the pile of papers that was encased in the manila folder. Sonny continued to pace; he had enough nervous energy to light the whole of New York City in a blackout. There was a clock in the corner of the room that was ticking; it was the only sound in the room besides the rustling of papers coming from the coffee table. When he was finished, Spinelli looked up, meeting the eyes of the dark haired mob boss.

Sonny paused. "Well?" He questioned impatiently. He wanted to know if he was the only person that thought the sudden appearance of Brooke Darrialo Romillia was out of place.

Spinelli looked down, seeming to choose his words carefully. "The Jackal finds this Brooke a little murky…"

Sonny's eyes lit up and he continued with his pacing. "Exactly! I had Stan pull as much information on her as possible, and there was nothing dating past two years ago that indicated she was even alive! No birth certificate! No high school diploma! No parents! Nothing! Wouldn't you think that Romillia would be a little suspicious of her?"

"One would think…" Spinelli replied hastily. He seemed uncomfortable discussing business with Sonny.

Sonny glanced sideways at Spinelli, ignoring the uneasiness in his voice. "I want you to dig up everything about Brooke Romillia that you can find."

"Sir, with all due respect, didn't you already say that you already ordered one of your most trusted assistants to do so?" Spinelli questioned, looking uncertain.

Sonny pinned Spinelli with a hard glare. "I gave you an order."

Spinelli flinched and let out a small squeak. "Yes, sir." And with that, he set to work.

Hours ticked by and the first signs of the morning sun painted the sky on the horizon. Spinelli sat at his laptop, typing and clicking away, a look of furious focus on his face. Sonny was reading through the material pulled on Romillia again, familiarizing himself with it. Stan had dropped by with more material on Romillia's late wife, which wasn't much, but Sonny had read through it anyway. The more he knew about this man, the better.

Suddenly, a beeping sound filled the room. Sonny looked up, his eyes finding Spinelli's computer, but the computer genius didn't seemed fazed. He was still busy hacking into servers and the enemy's accounts. The beeping sounded again, and Sonny looked in the direction of where it was coming from. He frowned. It was his computer.

Getting up slowly, he realized that he had an email. Suspicious, he approached the laptop cautiously. The message was highlighted at the top of his list, and the sender's address was unknown to his address book. His eyebrows knotted curiously over his eyes, but he pulled the mouse over the email and clicked anyway.

Nervous knots filled his stomach as he read over the email.

_Mr. Corinthos,_

_I'm sorry I haven't been in touch for a while, but I'm sure these will help you and Mr. Morgan. Again, trust me. I can only assure you that I'm on your side. Everything will become clear soon._

It wasn't signed, but he hadn't expected it to be. There was an attachment that needed to be downloaded, so Sonny clicked on it, waiting with impatience for the transference to be complete. As the bar filled in the box on the computer screen indicating the complete download, windows media player popped up in front of his eyes. Sonny's heart sped up and the hair on the back of his neck stood at attention.

The video footage playing in front of him proved that Alcazar was still alive, and not only that, but his gruff voice had confirmed that he was framing Jason.

Sonny looked up, astonished, and met Spinelli's intrigued gaze. Sonny nodded.

"I think we just found a way to prove Jason's innocence."

Spinelli raised his eyebrows. "How—how did the Godfather obtain such information?"

Sonny shrugged, turning his brown eyes back to the computer screen where the video was replaying itself. "I think that there is more to Brooke Romillia than we give credit."

Spinelli was quiet, watching Sonny. "Do you really think that the betrothed of the Brazilian enemy is trustworthy?"

Sonny sighed, rubbing his temples. He seemed to mull over his answer, choosing his words carefully. "It seems that Brooke is feeding us information… like she wants her husband to get caught…"

"But why?"

Sonny shook his head, his shoulders shrugging as an answer. "I want you to find where Romillia is living. We're going to pay a visit to little Miss Brooke. In the mean time, I'm going to get his video over to the PCPD. We're going to need to get Jason exonerated of all charges of murder as soon as possible."

_-&-_

**A/N – Like it? Love it? Hate it? I love any type of review—even if it is constructive criticism! **

**Reviews are like summer days on the sand soaking up the hot rays. **

**3 **


	7. Chapter Six: Still Digging

_**A/N – Thank you soooo much for the feedback! Yayyy! Journey/CarSon fans UNITE! Because we love our couples! Seriously, I am loving that you are loving this story! Makes a girl sooo happy! P.S. how happy would ya'll be if Courtney came back to the show FOR REAL? Keep prayyingggg for that. Comeooon. TBTP haaave to get bored of Sam somedayyy righttt? **_

_**Anyway, til that day comes… **_

**_We still have fanfiction.  
_**

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_**Chapter Six: Still Digging**_

Jason walked through the door to Sonny's living looking both thoroughly exhausted and extremely irritated. He ran a hand through his hair and was met with confusion when he saw Spinelli typing away rapidly on his laptop in the corner and Sonny gazing out the window, a mug of hot coffee in his hand. Jason checked his watch.

Eight o'clock in the morning.

What the hell was Spinelli doing at Sonny's?

"Sonny," Jason grunted, making his presence known.

Spinelli's head snapped up (looking almost like he could have gotten whiplash in the action) and he grinned from ear to ear. "Stone-cold!"

Jason inclined his head towards the computer nerd and his lips inched upward. He couldn't help it; he had a soft spot for the kid.

Sonny turned, nodding in acknowledgement towards his best friend. "Jason."

"What's up?"

Jason tried to keep the impatience out of his voice, but failed miserably to do so. His son had been missing for almost a full week, and every lead that he was encountered had ended up being a dead end.

Sonny took a sip from the coffee mug in his hand and walked over to his computer, which was set up on his desk. Jason watched him, feeling even more annoyed with how composed Sonny was. Did he really think that he had time for this? This was wasting precious seconds in the search for his son…

"Jason."

Sonny cut Jason's thoughts off, and Jason's steely blue eyes met his boss's.

"You need to get your mind focused," Sonny told him sternly, his chocolate eyes holding seriousness. "I understand that your son is missing, but you need to recognize all our men plus the PCPD are looking for Jake. I'm not asking much of your time here."

Jason felt anger boil into his stomach. "Don't tell me what I need to do, Sonny. My son has been gone for a week! I made a promise to Elizabeth that I would keep him safe!"

"Well, then you should have stepped up and claimed your son rather than letting her lie to the whole city that Jake is Lucky's," Sonny bit off angrily. "Maybe you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

Jason's steely eyes darkened. "She did that to keep him safe."

Sonny raised an eyebrow. "Safe? Is that what Jake is right now?"

It took everything in Jason to refrain from throwing Sonny into a wall with his forearm tucked under his neck. "When Michael and Carly were missing, you wouldn't listen to reason either, Sonny. This is my son. One of the enemies could have found out that he was mine and taken him! He could be half-way across the country by now under a completely different name!"

Sonny took a deep, steadying breath. Fighting with Jason was not something that he intended to do when he called him. "Just calm down, Jason. We need to be able to think clearly."

Jason nodded, taking a deep breath also. "You're right." Still, his voice was strained.

"I want you to look at this," Sonny said, turning back to the computer screen.

Jason followed Sonny, bending over and resting his hands on the side of the desk so that he could see the screen with more clarity. Sonny moved the mouse over the play button and after a short period of buffering, the video started.

Jason watched with keen interest as Alcazar swept into a house—clearly it was Romillia's as it was him who had let him through the door—talking with him, planning to kill Sonny, and scheming about a plan to put Jason in prison for his own murder. Jason felt his blood run cold, feeling hatred for the bastard in the video.

Jason looked up at Sonny. "How did you get this?"

Sonny, who had just poured Jason a cup of black coffee, handed him the dark liquid. "We think that Brooke Romillia is helping us out."

"Who?" Jason asked, confused. He took a sip of the bitter liquid and let it run down the back of his throat. He inwardly sighed; coffee made him feel a little better.

"Romillia's wife," Sonny answered, looking towards Spinelli, who had removed himself from his laptop to join the conversation.

"Here, read these," Spinelli told Jason, handing him the papers that Sonny had given him early plus the added information Spinelli had retrieved.

Feeling puzzled yet intrigued, Jason took the papers and read over them; he scanned all the bits and pieces of information and grew more and more befuddled by the second. Something didn't feel right. This "Brooke"—it was silly to say, but he felt (even by just scanning her name) that she wasn't who she said she was. As crazy as it sounds, somewhere in back of his bellybutton, he felt a pull—like a connection to the name. He pushed the weird sensation away, and looked up at his colleagues.

"That's weird," Jason said. "His wife just shows up two years ago without the slightest history. Wouldn't he find that a little strange?"

Spinelli nodded. "The Godfather and the Jackal have been wondering the same thing."

"No high school diploma, no parents, no birth certificate… Not even a single picture," Jason muttered, scanning the files over again. "It's like she appeared out of nowhere."

Sonny raised his eyebrows. "Exactly."

"No pictures…" Jason repeated, the irritation towards Sonny slipping away as curiosity set into its place. "It's like she trying to hide from something."

"I think she did that on purpose," Sonny said with conviction.

Jason read the tone of Sonny's voice, and he removed his eyes from the papers to look at Sonny, regarding his face carefully. "You think we know her."

"I think that she knows us," corrected Sonny.

"But can we trust her?" Jason countered, his face darkening.

Spinelli's eyebrows knotted together on his forehead. "Isn't that what the Godfather and Stone-cold are doing right now? By using the information that she sent via email?"

Jason's blue eyes met Spinelli's questioning gaze. "Technically."

"Couldn't she use this as leverage for blackmail?" Spinelli questioned further.

"Probably," Sonny answered.

Spinelli continued with his interrogation. "Then why are you going to play into the betrothed of the enemy's murky hands? She already has proven to us that even her own husband cannot trust her!"

"She's given us no reason not to trust her yet," Sonny explained calmly and took another sip of his coffee. "And this is a crucial bit of information to help Jason. Romillia is closing in for attack, and I can't have my right hand man sitting behind bars when he does so."

Spinelli nodded. "But what if it's a trap?"

Jason sighed. "We're going to have to take that chance."

Spinelli looked thoughtful for a moment, and Jason thought that perhaps he was finished questioning, but then he spoke again. "So what makes The Murky One want to help you?"

"That's another question that begs to be answered," Sonny told him, relieving himself into his favorite armchair that faced the window. Spinelli nodded, but his face still held haste. "But we do know that you are a free man, Jason, as soon as the police gets that video."

Feeling doubtful, Jason shook his head. "Knowing Ric, I'm sure he'll find away to twist this into a set up."

"The law is the law, Jason," Sonny told him, shaking his head. "And granted, the law is corrupt in Port Charles, this is hard enough evidence that Alcazar planned his disappearance that Ric will have no choice but to let you go. He can't keep you with no real evidence that proves you forged the tape, which leaves you with more time to find your son without worry about murder charges."

"Well then let's get this over to the PCPD," Jason told Sonny with urgency in his voice. "I need to find Jake; and the quicker, the better. Elizabeth is already crying to me, wondering if he's dead. I… I couldn't…" he trailed off. His blue eyes held the look of a lost man. Spinelli looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"I don't think he's dead," said Sonny quietly. "Have the guards been watching Sam?"

Jason's head popped up. "Sonny… you don't think Sam? I know what Amelia said about her, but I don't think…"

The anxious look on Jason's face betrayed what he was saying.

"The Fair Samantha would never kidnap anyone's child," Spinelli told them confidently. "Never."

Sonny regarded Spinelli very carefully. "Grief over the loss of a child drives people to do crazy things."

"B-but…" Spinelli sputtered, but trailed away, unable to find an answer.

He retired back behind his laptop and began clicking away once more. He looked a little defeated, and Jason felt a pang of guilt when he looked towards the young man. He shouldn't have to be dealing with this at such a young age. He should be hacking into video game cheats, rather than into dangerous mob lords accounts and files. He shook his head, then turned back to Sonny.

"The guards have been on her all night," said Jason, but even still he looked pained. "I just… I can't believe that we're trailing my fiancée."

Sonny raised his eyebrows. "Have you told Elizabeth about us following Sam?"

Jason shook his head. "Lucky already is crazy enough with Jake missing; it wouldn't be good to go see her."

"Have the guards found anything on her?" Sonny questioned. Jason heard the suspicion in his voice.

"No. They haven't called and Sam isn't back," Jason told his boss. He paused for a moment. Sonny was studying the black liquid in his mug. "You really think Sam has something to do with this?" Somewhere inside of Jason, his gut twisted—he felt awful for doubting the woman that he claimed to love.

Sonny sat for a moment in the same position, mulling the question over in his mind. He rolled the coffee mug in his hands and inhaled deeply. "I don't know what to think about her, Jason, but something isn't right."

Jason swallowed. "But if she had Jake…"

"You wouldn't know; you've been searching for him 24/7 since you got out on bail. Have you even been home at all?" Sonny questioned.

"Once," Jason answered, feeling suddenly very guilty. Had he not kept a close enough eye on Sam? Some where inside, a voice chided him: _You thought she loved you. You didn't think that she would turn on you like this._ "To change into different clothes."

"Was Sam there?"

Jason gulped, his mind drifting back. "No." He remembered feeling relieved that she wasn't there, so he wouldn't have to explain why he was so frantic about finding Elizabeth's son.

Sonny just raised his eyebrows and nodded. Jason felt sick; his best friend thought his fiancée was responsible for kidnapping Jake, and the worse part about it was that Jason was starting to suspect her as well. He closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead, looked away. He wanted to believe in Sam—he really did—but Sonny was right. Sam had been acting oddly for months—disappearing, showing up late to work, walking him into distinctly uncomfortable situations that involved Elizabeth and Jake. His heart and his desire to see the good in her had clouded over his mind and his ability to think clearly. Could Sam have possibly taken Jake?

"I called Diane," Sonny told Jason, breaking his thoughts. "She's on her way over so that she can give Ric this new information."

Jason nodded, feeling a little bit of ease settle into his body. "Good." 

_-&-_

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A/N – you know how much I love feeback? 

_**I'll give you a hint. **_

_**Feedback is like gooey marshmallows roasted over an open campfire. **_


	8. Chapter Seven: The Second Plan

_**A/N - Thanks to all who keep reviewing! I'm so glad that you are enjoying this story. And the good news is that I got loooots more to give youuu! YAY! Huge plans for this story; I hope you're ready! Buckle your seat belt... it's going to be an adventurous ride! **_

_**Dedication: To Journey. I miss them. It's hard to believe they were together nearly six years agooo. It seems soooo long ago! **_

_**Thank you, thank you, thank you for FANFICTION! **_

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_**Chapter Seven: The Second Plan**_

Courtney was very grateful that she was upstairs when she heard the door slam to the cottage. Immediately the downstairs was filled with angry voices—two males and one female. She recognized the male voices: Alcazar and Raul were screaming in Spanish, and Courtney caught broken phrases like "I can't believe this happened!" and "How do the police know?"

Courtney's felt the blood drain from her body, and she could only assume that Jason had been released from all the murder charges. Despite the happiness for Jason who was finally free for being wrongly accused, the knotted feeling in her stomach told her that she was anything but relieved. She crept to the stairs with stealth, straining her ears to see if she recognized the last voice—the one that belonged to the female.

"_You_!" accused Raul, his voice filled with ire. "You turned him in! I knew you couldn't be trusted!"

"Me?" the female voice gasped. "Why would you blame this on me? I want Jason to suffer for all the time that he's been lying to me!"

"You are a silly jealous girl. You had no idea what you got yourself into, so you turned on us and told the police that Alcazar is alive!" Raul seethed.

"Calm down, Romillia," commanded Alcazar, his voice solemn and quiet. "I don't think we have any reason to mistrust her."

"She is a scorned woman acting on impulse! How do we know that she didn't have a sudden attack of conscience?" Raul obviously felt betrayed and didn't believe anything that the woman was saying.

The woman had a raspy, whispery voice that Courtney found eerily familiar, like she had heard it somewhere before. Courtney sighed; if the woman knew Jason, then she probably did know who she was. The familiarity of the voice chilled her to her bones.

"How do we know that it wasn't your wife that got scared and turned me into the police?" Alcazar questioned maliciously.

There was a silence that filled the living room downstairs. Courtney froze and willed her heart to stop beating so hard; she swore they would hear her two-timing anxiety beating in her chest.

"How dare you?" Raul breathed, and Courtney visibly relaxed. "My wife would never incriminate me!"

Courtney winced; she almost felt guilty for his faith in her. Almost.

"How can you be so sure?" Alcazar questioned further.

Courtney was fearful. Had he figured out who she was? There were absolutely no photographs of her anywhere in the house; she had made sure of that. They were too close to Port Charles; too many people knew her real identity. She couldn't take the chance of someone finding out that she was really Courtney Matthews, and Brooke Darrialo Romillia didn't exist past two years prior.

"My wife doesn't even know who you are. She believes that you are a respectable businessman and allowing me to pass coffee shipments through your docks. She has no idea that you are a wanted, dead arms dealer," Raul told him sternly.

Courtney rolled her eyes. He sure gave Brooke _a lot_ of credit.

"She's seen the news," Alcazar countered. "She's seen my face plastered all over the newspapers. It isn't a secret that Jason Morgan is being held in custody for my murder."

"Why would she care about Jason Morgan?" questioned Raul vehemently. "Even if she did know who you were, she knows that Corinthos is dangerous. I've told her so."

"A scorned woman—," the female voice started, but Raul cut her off quickly.

"_You shut up_!" He yelled. "I can't trust you as far as I can throw you and you have shown me no reason to believe that I can, but _my wife_ is loyal to me! She has been nothing but understanding since we've been here. She's obeyed my orders to not leave the house and to lay low, because she knows that my business is dangerous! Don't tell me that my wife is to blame! I can assure you that she doesn't even know where the PCPD is!"

There was a deathly quiet downstairs; Courtney could hear the angry rasps of Raul's breath. For the first time, Courtney realized how much Raul had loved Brooke. He loved her so much that he turned a blind eye to anything that she did. Guilt whelmed in her stomach, but she pushed it away.

This was the man that knew that he married a woman who didn't remember anything from her past life. He snuck date-rape drugs into her wine when she wasn't looking so that he could take advantage of his own wife. The guilt instantly vanished from her.

Downstairs, Alcazar was the first to speak.

"Port Charles is a small town. I admit that I wasn't as discrete as I could have been. Someone could have easily spotted me and tipped off the police," he offered, but still sounded doubtful.

"Well then it is your fault that Morgan is out of prison," spat Raul.

"That's why I had a back up plan," Alcazar snapped, and Courtney could tell that he was pissed.

"Which is where you come in," Raul said, and Courtney could only assume that he was speaking to the female.

"That's right," she said. "I want to see Jason suffer over the loss of his son, along with little Miss Perfect-Can-Do-No-Wrong Elizabeth Spencer. Imagine her whiny, pathetic self when she finds out the son that she shares with Jason is dead."

_Elizabeth and Jason… A son_!? Courtney ignored the jealousy that flared inside her and forced her mind to focus on the matter at hand.

If this woman was jealous of Jason and Elizabeth…

(There it was again: the irrational jealousy. Courtney bit her lip with irritation. _Focus_.)

Inside her brain, the light bulb switched on, and she gasped audibly, then quickly clapped her hand over her mouth, straining her ears to make sure she wasn't heard.

The conversation continued without hitch, and Courtney breathed a sigh of relief, but her mind was spinning with the information that she had just digested. Jake Spencer—the baby that had been taken from the park nearly a week ago—was Elizabeth and _Jason's_ son! Whoever this woman was felt extreme betrayal on Jason's part, but that would mean that whoever she was would have to be close to him—

_No._

She shook her head, willing it not to be true.

_She couldn't be…_

"Sam and I had been planning to kidnap Jake for quite some time now," explained Alcazar.

_That bitch._

"Morgan is your fiancée, correct?" Raul asked Sam.

"Not anymore," Sam answered hatefully. "Do you think I would go back to the man that has been lying to me for months about a child with another woman?"

_Do you think he would take you back after he finds out that you kidnapped his son? _

She was downright outraged that Sam had deliberately hurt Jason; Elizabeth and Courtney were not best friends, but how could she take a child away from his _mother_? Seething, she listened on.

"How did you know Alcazar was alive?" Raul questioned.

There was a moment of silence that settled. Courtney could only imagine the looks that were passing between the three down there. She waited patiently—and with keen interest—for the answer.

"I helped Alcazar disappear," said Sam finally.

"But why?" Raul seemed hell bent on getting questions answered.

Alcazar answered tastefully. "Sam and I have an arrangement."

Courtney felt bile rise into her throat. _Disgusting_.

"You're sleeping with him?" Raul inquired. Even he, Courtney noted, sounded repulsed.

"Why does that matter?" Sam disregarded his question with malice. "Lorenzo and I have been planning this since he disappeared. We are going to take Jake somewhere far and raise him as our own. He will never know his real parents."

"Jason will live in despair thinking that he lost his only son," Alcazar said, sounding victorious.

"And Elizabeth can suffer for the lies that she's told her family for the past year," Sam added, a sound of both maniacal glee and extreme loathing in her voice.

"So what do you want with me?" Raul sounded confused.

"Well, we can't have anyone telling what happened to Baby Jake. What did you call it? An attack of conscience?"

Alcazar suddenly sounded very threatening. Courtney felt fearful, and she swore she heard a gun cock in the living room. She looked around, searching for something to hide in. If they killed Raul, then they would come looking for her, surely to kill her next.

"I can assure you, Alcazar, that will not happen." Raul sounded oddly calm to be staring down the barrel of a nine-millimeter gun.

Then again, Courtney thought, it was in his line of work to do so.

Sam spoke and Courtney felt the urge to break her cover just to run down there and strangle the selfish woman. How could she _kidnap_ someone else's child and live with herself?

"You see, there's only one way we can assure that," Sam told him. Courtney was 99.9% sure she was the one pointing the gun in his face. It was her voice that was shaking.

"I'm sorry that you had to die this way. We could have been better business partners," Alcazar told him, feigning remorse in his voice.

"My wife…" Raul whispered, and Courtney realized that he was crying.

"Don't worry. We'll kill her next," Sam answered, a cunning smile in her voice, like she was causing him comfort in her statement. "We can't have her reporting a murder."

"She is not here," Raul told them, blatantly lying. "My guards… today was the first day I let her out of the house. They took her into New York City to go shopping. She had been begging me all week."

In complete disbelief, Courtney's chin dropped and her mouth hung wide open. He was covering for her—correction, Brooke. He was covering for his beloved wife. As selfish as it sounded, she felt an instant rush of gratitude toward the man.

"Liar," Alcazar breathed. "She's here."

"Ask any of my guards; they will tell you. She's not here," Raul told him with confidence.

"Sam, hand me the gun. Go fetch the guard at the front door. We're going to need some information from him," Alcazar commanded.

There was a shuffling of feet and a door opening. Two pairs of footsteps entered the house, and Courtney closed her eyes, praying that it was plan. Alcazar spoke next, in rapid Spanish, asking if Brooke was in New York City shopping for the day. Courtney glanced around frantically, looking for a way out of the house without being heard. But the guard wasn't hesitant in his answer:

"Yes."

Courtney ceased her frantic movement and wondered very briefly if she had heard him right. The guard had just covered for her! It had all be a plan! Feeling like she could sing, her heart jumped with relief.

Alcazar thanked the guard; there was a gunshot (obviously a silencer was on the barrel), and a body hitting the ground. Horrified, Courtney covered her mouth with both hands and willed herself not to scream. The guard, it seemed, was dead.

"It's too bad," Alcazar told Raul. "I was going to let her say the last good bye. Imagine her shock when she comes home to find her husband with a bullet in his head."

Sam guffawed spitefully; Courtney's heart clenched unpleasantly in her chest. A nauseated feeling sank into her stomach and she felt completely appalled with the dark haired brunette. How could this woman _laugh_ in a time like this?

"Please…" Raul begged. "My wife… I love her…"

She couldn't believe that she was witnessing his last moments. He was speaking to Brooke. Again, the sharp pain of guilt pierced her gut.

"I'm sorry."

There was a shot that pierced the air and a body hitting the floor for a second time. Courtney's eyes filled with hot, angry tears, and she sank to her knees on the floor clutching her mouth and willing herself not to sob.

"Should we check around? Make sure that Brooke really isn't here?" Sam asked, her footsteps making their way to the stairs.

Instantly, Courtney sobered her emotions, and her breath hitched in her throat. The erratic beating in her heart willed her to move, but it seemed her legs weren't getting the message.

"No," came Alcazar's gruff voice. "The guard wasn't lying. She isn't here."

"But… it could have been a set-up…"

"No," Alcazar disagreed again. "The other guards will know that something happened soon. We can't be in the house when they find their boss dead. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you got hurt."

_Excuse me while I puke_, Courtney thought.

"Okay," Sam cooed, giving in. Her sugar coated voice dripped with nauseating sweetness. "So, now that our little problem is out of the way, where are we headed?"

"I was thinking Singapore. It's beautiful there, and we can live in harmony as Mr. and Mrs. Harry Evans, with our wonderful son Ryan," Alcazar told her.

"Sounds perfect."

The door closed with a snap and Courtney sat in silence, her knees pulled tight into her chest, trying with desperation to grasp what had just happened. Brooke's husband—Raul Romillia—was dead in her living room, and he had just saved her life. And what's more… Sam McCall had kidnapped Jason's son and was now on the run with Lorenzo Alcazar.

She got to her feet shakily, as her knees were still wobbly from having witnessed two cold-blooded murders. She stood for a moment, feeling lost and looking around the dark hallway. There was only one thing left for her to do.

She needed to go to Sonny.

She needed to tell him everything.

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**_A/N - reviews are like the a good pair of jeans that hugs all the right places. :)_**


	9. Chapter Eight: The Return

**_A/N - Thank you all so much for your sweet reviews! I'm so sorry this has taken me so long to update! (Your present? Two chapters uploaded at once! Or maybe three... if you're lucky. ;D...) It's been quite a few busy months - graduations, weddings, life in general... Dang, it makes me tired just thinking about it! :) Anyway, enjoy this chapter!_**

**_

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_****Chapter Eight: The Return**

Courtney looked around the bedroom that she had been sharing with Raul since they had arrived in Port Charles. The rich, mahogany, sleigh bed lay untouched—still unmade from their sleep last night. The neutral duvet of the down comforter lie folded over, the 500 thread-count sheets atop the pillow top mattress ruffled. The pillows were astray, one existing in the middle of the bed, having acted as a shield between the bodies the night before. A half-full glass of water sat on Courtney's side of the bed next to an alarm clock, which read "3:40" in the afternoon.

Everything seemed so surreal in this moment, like she was looking through the eyes of another person. The door to the bathroom was open, the bright light of the afternoon seeping onto the sage green carpet. Jewelry was thrown on the vanity, and an expensive watch sat atop his bureau.

Raul would never wear that watch again. He would never buy his wife another set of diamond earrings that she never wore. He would never gaze at her with disdainful eyes, like she was a child. He would never slip drugs into her wine so that she wouldn't be able to fight him when he made love to her. He would never intentionally walk into the bathroom while she was taking a shower just so he could gaze at her naked body.

He would never control her again.

Because he was dead.

It was an odd feeling. For the first time in two years, she wasn't Brooke Romillia.

She was Courtney Matthews.

An incredulous sigh escaped her lips and tears welled into her sapphire eyes. She walked to the vanity mirror, gazing at herself for what seemed like years. Her hair, naturally a lustrous blonde, was dark and mysterious, falling in waves to her shoulder blades. Her eyes, a pure sapphire, were puffy and tired. Her skin was tanned from the Brazilian sun, her cheeks pink from crying. In fact, she barely recognized herself. But it was something else that was different at that moment about her reflection; her eyes held a twinkle of hope.

And the next minute, she was both crying and laughing. The dam on her emotions broke free and she felt so wildly alive that she wondered if she had ever felt such a euphoria before. She was going home to her family—to her dad and her brother and her nephews—to the people that loved her. She wondered briefly what someone would do if they witnessed her rapid change in emotion. They probably would think that she was textbook insane. She quickly shook the thought away.

She didn't care; she was _back._

After quite some time, she sobered herself and scanned the room for a suitcase. She needed to pack as quickly and as little as possible, because soon, the guards would find Romillia dead, and she definitely didn't want to be around for that. She grabbed a few pairs of underwear, a couple bras, some strewn together outfits, two pairs of shoes, and her toiletries, and packed them into a small duffle bag. She hastily tied back her hair into a ponytail and placed a New York Yankees baseball cap on her head. She then changed into cotton white t-shirt and her favorite pair of Citizens of Humanity blue jeans. On her feet was a laced up pair of Nike tennis shoes. She paused for a second and gave herself a once over in the full-length mirror on the bathroom door.

_Welcome back, Ms. Matthews._

A smile graced her lips.

Her countenance turned serious, though, the next minute, because she had to think of a way to sneak out of the house without the guards wondering what she was doing—or worse: thinking it was she who had killed Raul. It would be awful suspicious to walk in on her packing a duffle bag and wearing a baseball cap—something Brooke Romillia would never be caught doing without the permission of her husband.

Courtney allowed herself to roll her eyes. Brooke was weak, and Courtney had grown to loathe her over the many months of playing her.

The back door was not an option; Raul always had two guards on that one. For some reason, he figured if someone were going to attack, they would use the back entrance. For Courtney, she had always thought that it was somewhat juvenile to assume that. Using the back door was so last century. Now days, if people wanted to sneak it, all they would have to do was burn a hole in a first-floor window with a laser. Then again, she hadn't always prided on Raul's intelligence.

Then, there was the garage door, where four of his men always stood guard. Not for the purpose of breaking and entering—as most people would think. Oh no. Raul didn't want anyone stealing his babies—the jet black, chromed Porsche Carrera and the six-speed, pearl white Lamborghini.

Again, Courtney remarked the idiocy of her late husband.

The only other way out was the front door. And there was no way that she could get out of there. There was always a—

Courtney's thought trailed away when another one quickly popped in to replace it.

_THE GUARD WAS DEAD!_

She couldn't believe her luck.

Courtney winced. Well, maybe lucky wasn't quite the word that she was looking for. She never really wanted a man to die…

Oh, what the hell was she thinking about this for? She needed to get out of the house before anyone found the bodies.

She had just thrown the duffle bag over her shoulder and was halfway out of the bedroom door thinking that she would never have to see that God forsaken place again when she heard footsteps coming from the downstairs.

"Shit," Courtney whispered.

She darted back into the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as possible, and shoved her duffle bag into the open closet door. She stumbled out of her cross trainers, threw away her hat, took down her hair, mussing it up a bit, and licked her fingers, rubbing them across her cheeks repeatedly. She reached over to the light switch, flicked the light off, and flung herself into the unmade bed. She hurriedly covered herself up, turned to her side, and closed her eyes.

She was pretending to sleep, but her erratic breaths paired with her heartbeat didn't allow truth the façade. But as she lay for a few minutes in bed, her eyes closed, her body began to relax ever so slightly. Her mind was still awake, whizzing with anxiety and fear. She knew that in moments the guards would be knocking on her door, wondering why she hadn't reported Raul's death sooner. They would be suspicious of her.

She dug into the deepest file cabinets of her mind, searching of a way out of this. Would they believe that she was napping in the bed and hadn't heard the silencers on the guns or the thuds of the bodies hitting the floor? Would they believe that she was devastated over the loss of her husband? How was she supposed to cry tears over the man that she hated?

_I'll pretend he's Jason._

The thought took her by surprise, and momentarily, she opened her eyes, completely at a loss with herself. She quickly shut them, though, once she realized that they were indeed open.

_Where did that come from?_

She allowed her mind to wander to Jason and Elizabeth, and her heart stung sharply. They had a little boy named Jacob. She was transported back to the time that she was carrying Jason's little girl—because she just knew that the baby was a girl—and how irresponsible and selfish she had acted when she had jumped off of Alcazar's boat. She remembered the pain of losing her, the empty feeling in her stomach that had never seemed to leave her. She couldn't help the jealousy that overwhelmed her when she thought about Elizabeth bearing Jason's child—let alone the mental image of Jason making love to her. She banished the thought away, protecting her aching heart.

Then again, Jason would make a wonderful father. He loved Michael and Morgan like they were his own.

She found herself being happy that Jason had a son—even if it wasn't one that they shared together.

She sighed; the relationship she had with Jason was nearly a lifetime ago. She needed to move on.

Inside her head, the stubborn part of her that had held onto Jason for the last few years screamed.

_But it was him that you saw when you thought you died! It was his beautiful eyes that you last saw when she slipped into the unconscious. It was he who you remembered first! That has to mean something!_

Courtney shook the thought away, tears pressing against her closed eyelids.

The saner part of her brain screamed at the stubborn one.

_He didn't come to look for you! He accepted your death and moved on! He didn't feel the connection that you thought was so deep…_

Her tears caught in her throat.

_Shut up_, chided the other part of her brain.

The saner part didn't however do such thing.

_You don't mean anything to him anymore._

But to her, Jason would _always_ mean something.

It was then that she realized the footsteps had ceased downstairs. She listened intently. Not one sound reached her eardrums. She shivered involuntarily. It was kind of creepy.

She gently rose from the bed, setting her feet on the floor. She pushed herself up and padded tentatively towards the door. Reaching forward, she silently turned the doorknob and crept into the hallway. She paused, straining her ears for the slightest sound. Still, there was nothing.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She needed to go have a look around downstairs. She needed to see what was going on.

Jason couldn't believe his eyes. The grip on his gun immediately tightened as he had walked further into the cottage. He had chloroformed all the guards around the house, but was shocked when the guard at the front door wasn't doing his job, but the last he had expected was to enter a home where the greatest Mob Lord of Brazil lie dead on the floor, along with one of his men.

There was a pool of blood circling like a halo around his head as Romillia lay face up on his back; his eyes were still open. The guard, it seemed, had been shot through the heart. His eyes, too, were still open.

Jason shivered, forcing himself to look away. Yes, he worked as a hit man for the most dangerous man in Port Charles, but he absolutely hated seeing the dead, glossy look in the eyes of the deceased.

He held his gun out further, creeping around the first floor. For all he knew, Brooke had finally snapped. She probably killed her husband, killed the guard, and was on her way into Port Charles getting ready to kill Sonny. Jason shook the thought away; something in his gut told him that Brooke was someone they could trust.

He had just finished checking out the game room for anyone when he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the stairs. He turned, quickly, stealthily, and made his way forward, holding the gun in front of him threateningly.

Around the corner, he watched as a woman—he could only assume that she was Brooke—came down the stairs, her dark hair mussed and falling to her shoulders. There was something eerily familiar about the way she walked; and as his eyes trailed down her shiny dark hair, to her lean muscled back, down her backside, and ending at her tiny feet, he shivered. It was almost like he had seen her body before.

He pushed the thought of his mind with a simple shake of his head.

_Focus, Morgan._

He watched as she stood, momentarily transfixed with the bodies in front of her. He moved forward slowly, careful not to make a sound. He placed his gun into the waistband of his jeans, and found the white piece of cloth covered in Chloroform in the pocket of his leather jacket.

He reached forward, gathering her in his arms (trying to ignore how eerily familiar her body felt). She jumped, fighting him, and as she was about to scream, he placed the cloth over her mouth. She breathed deeply, her muscles relaxed, and she slumped over into him.

He gently scooped her into his arms—even the weight of her body felt familiar, like he had carried her before. Her dark hair hung into her eyes, shielding her face from his view, but as he took a step forward, the air from the sudden movement caused the hair to blow away from her face. He looked down again, and nearly toppled over in utter shock.

He knew the woman in his arms—probably better than anyone would ever know her. He knew the contours of her cheeks and the silkiness of her hair in his fingers. He knew the soft flesh of her body and the exact place to make her moan for more. He had tasted her lips many times before and gazed into her sapphires lovingly.

But… how could it be?

She was dead.

Wasn't she?

A breath escaped his lips, but the word was audible. He had breathed it many times before in ways that only lovers could imagine. Only this time, the word was hushed with fear and questioning, a deep wonder pulsing through the last syllable.

"Courtney?"

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_**A/N - Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? Let me know by clicking on that liiiiiittle review button down there. Come on. I know you wanna do it. :)**_


	10. Chapter Nine: Home

**_A/N - aaaand the second chapter! will there be a third? :) ya'll are awesome. thank you SO much! Journey = will live on forever. just like my sweet Courtney will... :) enjoy!_**

**_

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_****Chapter Nine: Home**

She was lying on the seat across from him in the back of the limo. Her dark hair was strewn across her face, clouding its beauty. Her lips were parted, and she would breathe, her chest rising and falling as she did so. She looked peaceful, like she was sleeping. The dark jeans on her lower half hugged the curves of her body, a white t-shirt gathering on the side she lay on so that a bit of her tanned stomach poked through.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was real. She was breathing in front of him. They had been riding in the limo for about ten minutes now, and every time she would make a noise, a sigh, an occasional stir, he would brace himself, waiting for her to open her eyes. He longed to look into those eyes again; those sapphires that he swore he would never see again.

His mind was racing with incredulous assumptions. How could it be that his ex-wife—a woman who was pronounced dead two years prior—was lying in front of him? He swore it was her. He knew her face; he knew that way she felt against him. He knew the smell of her hair and the moistness of her breath on his neck. He knew everything about her, right down to the little toe trapped inside her white socks. And there was that feeling—this gnawing ache coming from somewhere behind his heart—that this was really Courtney. They had a connection that divorce and love after divorce could not break. And as it seemed, death could not either. It was deep and powerful, that same surge of emotion that drew him back to her time and time again. That mental block against that mistake that he could not fix, like he just couldn't help himself when he was around her. It had to be her.

His heart was beating erratically, his breath quickening with every second that she lay there. He had the power to wake her, but he was afraid. Afraid that she had forgotten who she was, afraid that she had forgotten who _he_ was… afraid that she would remember _everything_.

But if this really was Courtney, then it was she who had been helping them for the past couple weeks. She had been behind the phone calls and the emails and the video footage. She was the woman that Sonny had trusted with his children at one point.

It also meant that she was married to Raul Romillia.

She was Brooke Romillia.

Jason didn't understand. All this information being received at the same time hurt his head. If this really was Courtney, then she had been impersonating the wife of a mob lord for two years. Why hadn't she just called? He would have been on the first plane to Brazil to rescue her. Sonny would have killed Raul years ago. She would not have had to witness Raul being gunned down or miss two years of her nephews lives—of all of their lives.

Jason was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a squeaking of leather and a small groan. His eyes jumped back to the woman in front of him. He braced himself, watching her rub her face and push back her hair. She licked her lips, coughed softly, and lifted her head. It was then that her eyes opened, revealing those beautiful sapphires behind the lids.

Chills raised on Jason's arms as their eyes connected. He was nervous. There were butterflies in his stomach. He let out a small breath while she inhaled sharply. Her hands found her way to her mouth, almost like she was trying to keep from screaming. But the way she shook her head and pulled herself to a sitting position on the seat told him that she was not afraid, but disbelieving. She couldn't believe her eyes.

She inched forward, her hands reaching towards him. He didn't move, for fear that any sudden movement might scare her. He stayed quite still as he watched her hands move towards his chest. She had dropped off the seat and was kneeling in front of him. Her lips and hands were trembling. She had yet to utter a sound.

Then he felt the contact of her skin to his, and he flushed. She had jumped a bit when her hand found his chest, but then let out a sound of relief. Her eyes sought his, and he saw tears welling in them, spilling over onto her cheeks. A smile that he had never seen before was on her face—it was one of extreme relief, extreme happiness, extreme apprehensiveness.

"Jason."

She breathed his name. His heart jumped into his throat. She remembered! He nodded, the first real smile for weeks reaching his lips.

"Yeah, it's me."

A strangled sort of sob escaped her lips, and she launched herself into his arms, crushing him with the impact. Her arms were around his neck and her head was buried the nook of his neck and his shirt was getting wet because of her tears, but he didn't care. She was back in his arms; this was a sensation that he thought would never happen again. How could it be that after two years, she still fit so securely into them, like she had never left them? Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes onto his cheeks. He had missed her so much.

He was home.

After minutes of being wrapped in each other's arms, Courtney finally pulled away, wiping her eyes as she did so. Jason watched her as she smiled that goofy little grin she when she felt uncomfortable. He brought his hands to her face, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumb.

"Courtney."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't to get her attention. It was an affirmation that she was there in front of him, that she wasn't a figment of his imagination. That she kneeled before him in all her glory.

She nodded, her voice catching in her throat. Her dark hair fell into her eyes, and he pushed her lock away. He wanted to look at her face.

"How…" His voice trailed away.

She shrugged her shoulders. "You found me."

He nodded.

"You always do."

It was a whisper, a simple statement, but it meant the world to Jason. His heart leaped into his throat and his eyes clouded with tears once more. She still relied on him.

"I'm taking you home."

"Home?" She said it like the word was almost foreign. "I'm going home?"

"Sonny's."

She nodded, tears springing back into her eyes. "Home," she repeated.

She sniffed, and suddenly Jason realized that she was still on the floor of the limo. He lifted her, pulling on her arms, and sat her next to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and gathering her close. Her head lay on his chest; he could feel her moist breath moving his t-shirt. He smoothed her hair with his hand and kissed the top of her head.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

She stiffened, and Jason immediately regretted his question.

"Can we not talk? Please? I just… I'm so tired. I'll tell you… everything… I just…" the softness of her voice trailed away, replaced by a sigh.

He nodded against her head. "Okay."

He felt the tears on his shirt again, and held her close, letting her cry. He didn't understand why she was there or how she had gotten there. If anyone had told him that he would be holding his dead ex-wife by the end of the day, he would have told them that they were crazy. But here he was. Her pressure against him was real and comforting and Courtney.

He didn't understand it, but he didn't have to.

All that mattered was that she was home.

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_**A/N - please don't forget to review! I appreciate ya'll so much! :)**_


	11. Chapter Ten: Broken Promises

**A/N - thanks to all who reviewed... which wasn't much :( i know you journey lovers are still out there! so please review! i do love love love to know what ya'll have to say about my story. and i will continue trying to post this as much as possible! :)**

**-  
Chapter Ten: Broken Promises**

The silence engulfed them as the limo ride dragged on. She had pulled away from him after awhile and was now staring out the window, watching the sea of trees rush by. Every now and then she would sniffle or sigh, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them. Then, it would stretch on again.

She was different. He could feel it. There was something about the darkness of her hair and the shine in her blue eyes that appeared different. Perhaps it was that he didn't see the twinkle that Courtney once had that sparkled in those sapphires. Or the way her blonde hair captured her innocence that the dark simply did not. Maybe it was the way her body sank against the leather seat, folding over into itself as though she wanted to disappear. He sensed sadness, confusion, exhaustion…

But more than anything, he felt uncomfortable from the incredible amount of coldness radiating off of her. Something the old Courtney hadn't quite mastered.

The trees began to thin out and soon the roads began to lead into the city. Buildings began to rise around them, engulfing them in a maze of tall skyscrapers. The limo began to slow as they hit the traffic of the city. The tranquility was soon replaced with angry horns and loud gusts of wind.

He gently reached up, laying his hand on Courtney's shoulder as the car jolted to a stop at the Harbor View Towers. She jumped, her head whipping around, her eyes meeting his, and he quickly removed his fingers from her body. He visibly watched her relax, and his heart jumped into his throat. She couldn't even be touched anymore.

Suddenly, she seemed to realize where they were. Her eyes widened, filling with tears once again, and she looked completely fearful. She shook her head, pleading with Jason with her sapphires. She gulped, pushing down the tears, then opened her mouth to speak. "Jason, I don't want—I can't…" she trailed away, her chin falling into her chest.

Jason reached for her again, and this time she didn't jump under his touch. Inwardly, he sighed with relief. He could still touch her. "Courtney, it'll be fine," he whispered reassuringly. He gently wiped the tears off of her cheeks and tilted her chin for him to look at her. "You're okay. You're safe."

Her eyes welled with big tears again, and he watched as the liquid gathered in the bottom of them. Her lip trembled, and it appeared that the words she wanted to speak were lost in her throat. She wrapped her arms around her body, drawing her knees to her chest. She looked like a lost child, and Jason's heart broke.

"Jason, I don't know if I can do it." Her voice broke, trembling slightly, as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Sonny and Carly and the boys and… it's all so much…"

"But we're your family, Courtney. We love you," he reasoned, shaking his head. He didn't understand why she was so upset. "You're home."

Her breathing quickened. "I know, Jason." She paused, wiping a tear with the back of her hand. "Don't you understand? I've been gone for two years! I've been impersonating the wife of a mob lord! I've just witnessed him being shot! For weeks I've been in Port Charles trying to help my brother protect his family! I could have been killed had he found out that I was feeding Sonny information about him!" She paused, tears streaming down her face. She sniffed and continued.

"Do you know what it's like, Jason? To live in fear every day! To never reveal your true identity? To think that you're going to be stuck in this hell for the rest of your life? Thinking that the old person that you were was gone for good? That I could never again be Courtney Matthews?" She took another staggering breath and let it out shakily. She seemed to be drawing energy from the bottom of her soul so that she could continue.

She looked at him, her eyes resting on his in that way that made him feel unsettled. She swallowed, and this time, when she spoke, her voice was almost a whisper, hushed and scratchy. "For months, I've wanted to contact you to tell you that I was alive and I needed you to come get me. And now, it's all happened, I don't know whether to be happy or feel relieved or completely lost. I don't know what's going to happen next. I mean, God, Jason, as far as everyone knows, I've been dead for _two_ years!."

She covered her face in her hands and let out a shattering sob. Her shoulders shook from the force and she heaved a great groan. He watched her, completely at a loss for the words to ease the pain that she was feeling. She was scared and confused, and he didn't blame her. No one should go through what she went through. Instead, he did the only thing that he knew how. He scooted more closely to her and guided her into his arms. She fell into them easily, curling her arms underneath his, and burying her face into his shoulder. He smoothed her hair, kissed her the top of her head, and gently rubbed her back.

He felt her begin to slow, relaxing a bit. After awhile, she pulled away, wiping her eyes. Her nose was red and her cheeks were puffy, but he didn't care. God, she was the most beautiful thing on the entire earth, and all that mattered was that she was in his arms and safe. Safe from the monsters in the world like Raul Romillia and Lorenzo Alcazar.

A raging feeling of guilt and anger flared inside of him.

It had been his job to protect her. His job to keep her from the business. And he had failed her. In more ways than just one.

She looked down, wiping at her nose and her face with the backs of her forearms. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Confused, Jason handed her some tissues from the mini bar of the limo and shook his head. "Why?"

She grabbed for the tissues and wiped the corner of her eyes with them. Balling them up in her first, she shrugged, looking down at her hands. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "I didn't mean to unload on you. I know this is all crazy for you, too."

He gently lifted himself from the seat and kneeled in front of her. Reaching out, he pushed the hair from her eyes. He palmed her cheek and sought her eyes before he spoke. "Courtney, you've been through hell and back. It's okay to feel the way you do."

Her bloodshot eyes filled with tears once more. "I'm just so overwhelmed. There's so much I need to tell you…"

He nodded. "I'm listening."

She nodded too, then grabbed her head, wincing. "My head hurts."

"I chloroformed you," Jason admitted, looking down guiltily. "I didn't know who you were at the time, and I couldn't take the chance of getting caught."

She silenced him by placing a hand on the side of his face. His heart jumped in his chest and his stomach flipped nervously. She smiled; it was small, but still nevertheless a smile. "I understand, Jason. I don't exactly look the same."

It was joke, but neither of them laughed. The air was too tense.

Suddenly, the blonde sucked in a breath. Jason watched her, worried. It sounded as if she was hurt, but she didn't clutch anything on her body. Instead, she reached towards him, her eyes wide with alarm. Grabbing his shoulder, she looked him dead in the eye, a seriousness reflecting in them as she stared at him.

"Jake," Courtney breathed.

Jason's breath staggered; it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice-cold water down his back. Oh God. How could he have forgotten about his son who was missing? Then, a feeling of astonishment lifted from his stomach. How did Courtney know about his son? "Jake?" he repeated after her, trying not to sound so hopeful.

Tears filled her eyes, and Courtney waved her hand with impatience. She knew he was trying to play dumb with her, but she wasn't going to let him. The safety of his son was more important than keeping his secret. "I know he's your son," Courtney told him. "I know where he is."

Jason's eyes widened, his heartbeat quickening. "Where?" he asked desperately, not acknowledging the fact that she knew about his son with Elizabeth. He placed his hand over hers as it gripped his shoulder. "Who has him?" _And what else did she know?_

"Sam," Courtney spat, her lip curling dangerously, her blue eyes steely. "That _bitch_ has him. She and Alcazar are taking him to Singapore under the names Mr. and Mrs. Harry Evans with their son Ryan. I don't know if they've already left or -," Jason cut her off as he was already on his cell phone.

"Yeah. I want all flight information about a Mr. and Mrs. Harry Evans leaving the country tonight. Good."

He clicked the phone shut and looked at her. He was jumping out of his skin. _Sam _had Jake. That lying, cheating, good for nothing—

"Don't give her the satisfaction, Jason."

Her voice was a warning, but it was enough to bring him out of his silent temper tantrum. He looked up at her questionably, raising an eyebrow. Her eyes were piercing against his, and he felt unsettled under her gaze. She had a way of doing that—making him vulnerable and completely naked by just looking at him.

_Wow, Morgan, she's been gone for nearly two years, and you're still feeling that?_

Jason shook himself inwardly. He couldn't focus on that, or what the return meant for them. If there was a "_them_" at all. He needed to focus on his son and bringing him home safely.

"She wants you to get mad and angry and resentful," Courtney spoke again, her voice soothing. "Don't let her do that, Jason. You have to stay relaxed. It won't do you any good to be so angry with her. It'll make for rash decisions."

Jason fixed a steady gaze on her face. When did she become so wise in the business? "I know." It was all he could say. She was telling him to shut down, forget his emotions, and react.

Suddenly, the shrill ringing of his phone pierced the air sharply, breaking the odd tension in the limo. Courtney was sure people were beginning to wonder about them as they had been parked outside the apartment building for quite some time now.

Jason jumped, bringing the cell phone to his ear, and nearly barking into it. "Yeah?" He was silent for a minute, his face betraying nothing from what the other end was saying. He nodded once. "Thanks." Then, he ended the call.

He looked towards Courtney. "This may be a bad idea."

Courtney knew exactly what he meant by that. "Jake's safety is first, Jason. You know that."

Jason bit his lip, regarding her for a few moments. Gently bringing his hand to the side of her face, he whispered softly. "I won't lose you again."

Her heart jumped into her throat, and she gulped down the lump that had formed. For a brief moment, she saw something flicker through his eyes—something that she hadn't seen for in a long time. It was the way that he used to look at her, before he had said goodbye to her forever.

_Don't think about it now, Courtney._

He didn't give her a chance to speak. Removing his eyes from hers, he pressed the button to communicate with the driver. "Yeah, Ralph? I need you to take us to the landing strip. We've got business to attend to."

He looked towards Courtney when the car started moving forward. Pulling up the pant leg of jeans, he revealed a gun holster with a small handgun attached to it. She watched him grab the gun, roll down his pant leg, and then hold the gun out for her to take.

She looked at him wearily, not knowing really what he wanted her to do. "Jason…" she started, hesitating.

Jason shook his head. "No arguments, Courtney. I'm not letting you go into this unarmed."

Courtney nodded, reaching numbly out to the gun that he was holding. For a brief moment, their fingers touched and their eyes locked. She could see the worry in his eyes, along with the desperation. He had a lot on the line right now—his son, her, Alcazar, Sam… Her heart broke for him.

_God, I still love him_.

She broke eye contact with him and pulled the gun into her chest.

Jason nodded. "You're not to leave the limo. Do you understand me? And if anyone tries to come get you, you use that." He gestured to the gun in her fingers. "Clear?"

She was received orders from her ex-husband. Strict orders. "I understand," she whispered. Her heart was beating a million miles per minute. She knew that going into this was going to be dangerous; she had witnessed the mafia battles before and knew that they were no icing on any cake.

Jason gripped the space between her neck and shoulder, looking into her eyes deeply. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, do you understand me? I won't fail you again."

Her breath disappeared from her lungs. She couldn't find the words to answer him, but she didn't have to. He had turned towards the window. She knew that he wasn't watching the passing scenery. He was in his head, planning out his attack.

_Oh, God. Why do I have a bad feeling about this?_

**A/N - let me know your thoughts :) **


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